Believe
by Abbl2
Summary: Its present day, and Peter finds himself in America after losing his best friend in Neverland. While he lies dying on the beach, a young girl and her sister come to his aid. Now he must find his way back. With a catch... Chapter 11 is up!
1. Prologue the Storm

Prologue

Peter

Peter looked around, and saw nothing but water. The back of his eyes were burning, and he let out a howl that matched the screaming wind around him. His tears were nothing more than the raindrops that hit the freezing water below. He screamed again, a wail of horrible despair and grief, but that was also drowned out by the storm. He picked up speed. He was flying faster than he had ever flown before, trying to put as much distance between him and his feelings as possible. Far ahead of him, he could see a dark shape that he assumed was land, but the rain and his tears blinded him.

He shot upward in a furious rage. He went higher and higher until he was just below the clouds. He looked down and saw the dark water about 60 feet below him. Lightning illuminated the space around him; thunder crashed. Suddenly, he felt a searing pain hit his back, and run through his body. In that split second of consciousness, he realized what had happened, was scared, and then thought, '_No, let me die. I'd rather die than live without her.'_ He felt his body fall back, down, down to the raging ocean as he slipped into unconsciousness.

**. . . . .**

Back on his home island, a tiny body was lying as cold and stiff as the frost covered ground beneath her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****Hey everyone! this is my first fan fic on this site. i'm super excited to finally post this, which i've been working on for a really long time. please take the time to review. i'll post the first (actual chapter) soon! :)**

**Disclaimer: unfortunatly, i do not own peter pan *sobs***


	2. Chapter 1 the Beach

Chapter 1

Abigael

Abby woke up in her sleeping bag to the early morning, bone chilling cold that had settled on her family's campsite. She checked her watch. It was 4:30. She cursed under her breath. No way was she going to get any more sleep in this cold. She laid down for a few more minutes, until she accepted that it was useless to even try to rest. She sat up and looked over at the small form of her sister, and could immediately tell that Morgan wasn't asleep either; her breathing was to fast. She shook her sister, who turned over to look at her with annoyance in her cold, blue eyes. Her cropped short, black hair matted her face, and she sat up groggily.

"What do you want?" she mumbled, making no effort to hide the irritation in her voice.

"Could you sleep?" Abby asked quietly. Morgan gave her a dark look.

"No," she replied.

"Then get dressed," Abby said. "We're going for a walk." Morgan didn't object. She had obviously been thinking the same thing. The two sisters got dressed in the warmest clothes they could find, and unzipped the tent. They were greeted by a blast of freezing air in their faces. _'Welcome to Washington,'_ Abby thought sarcastically, _'the state where the sun never shines.'_ She grabbed her cell phone, and they marched out of the campsite.

"Where are we going?" Morgan asked through chattering teeth. Abby thought for a moment.

"To the beach," she finally said. It's not like she had planned to go there in the first place, they were just on that path.

They walked along the frozen forest path in darkness. Abby mentally scolded herself for not remembering to bring a flashlight. It was five-o-clock in the morning! The days were much shorter now that it was winter. They continued walking until it got a bit lighter and they could see their surroundings. They were in an area where the trees grew closely together. They were mostly evergreen trees, but you could see the occasional bare branches of a sycamore or cedar. It all looked very sinister. As they walked, Morgan crept closer to Abby, her eyes darting about as if there were unseen monsters lurking just outside of their vision.

Soon, they could see a break in the trees, and they both let out a sigh of a relief. They walked a little faster until they reached the edge of the beach. Then they took their shoes and socks off and ran through the sand, forgetting about the cold as they sent it flying behind them. When they were about halfway to the water, Morgan sat down abruptly and began running her hands through the sand and burying them under thick piles. Abby continued to walk towards the edge of the water to pick up pretty colored stones that came in and out with the tides.

She walked for a long time until her pockets were half full with rocks, when her feet began to fully feel the cold of the water. She looked at her cell phone. It was almost six. She started to walk back, but then she saw something from the corner of her eye. It looked like a log. She instantly forgot about her feet and started towards it. Logs were always the best place to find shells and rocks, because the tide moved around them and brought rocks to the other side, where they got stuck underneath it. As she got closer, she realized something wasn't right. _'Wait a minute,'_ she thought, _'logs don't have arms and legs!'_ She started running towards the log, which she now knew was a person. She wished that she hadn't taken off her shoes. The sand was hurting her feet. She got to the person, and knew at once that he wasn't asleep. For one thing, he was drenched, and for another, he wasn't breathing. She tapped on his shoulders, hard.

"Are you ok?" she shouted. There was no response.

"Morgan!" she called to her sister, desperation creeping its way into her voice. Morgan looked up from where she was, got up, and started walking over to her sister.

"Run!" Abby shouted. Morgan began a steady jog. Abby didn't pay attention. She had already torn the little clothing that he had on his chest, placed her hands on his sternum, and began the thirty compressions, counting out loud.

"One and two and three. . ." she counted. When she got to thirty, she pinched his nose, tilted his head back, and breathed into his lungs. Then, immediately, she began the compressions again. Her sister finally got to her and squealed when she saw the apparently dead boy and her sister performing CPR.

"Take my cell phone and call 911," Abby said, never once hesitating or losing track. "It's in my back pocket." She then tilted his head, pinched his nose, and breathed into his mouth again.

"Eww," Morgan said as she reached into Abby's back pocket. Abby glared at her as she continued pushing.

"Just shut up and dial," Abby said. Morgan did as she was told. Abby began to count again.

"Come on, breathe!" Abby willed the boy. "Wake up and breathe!" Abby could hear her sister talking in the background. She concentrated on the correct technique as she tilted his head back again.

"Eww," Morgan said again. "Oh, not you ma'am," she said to the operator.

Abby was now starting to get nervous. She had been instructed in her CPR class to only do five sets, but she was on her fourth, and the boy still wasn't responding. They probably assumed that help would be there by then, or that the victim was beyond help. Well, she would just have to keep pumping until help arrived.

Just as she had finished the last two breaths, they heard a siren coming down the beach, and the sand and water was illuminated with red, flashing lights. At that moment, the boy suddenly convulsed, and then vomited up water on the sand beside them. Abby almost cried with happiness as he groaned and lay back down, his eyes closed.

"Is he alive?" asked Morgan from over Abby's shoulder.

"Yes," Abby said breathlessly as she took off her jacket and slowly attempted to dry him with it. Morgan looked more closely.

"He's cute," she said. The boy, luckily, didn't seem to hear her. He struggled to get onto his elbows in the rough sand. Abby gently laid her hand on his chest and his forehead until he lay down again. Strangely, this gesture seemed very awkward, even though just a moment ago, she had technically been kissing him. He nodded slowly and set his head slowly on the ground just as the paramedics arrived with a stretcher. She stepped aside and allowed them to do their work, but had to forcefully pull Morgan back as she attempted to watch what they were doing. At first, the boy seemed terrified of them, but they explained what they were doing to him, so he relaxed and allowed them to put him in the ambulance. One of the doctors asked Abby and Morgan to come with them to the hospital so that they could ask them some questions. Morgan immediately jumped at the opportunity, and Abby said it was ok, so they piled into the back of the ambulance with the boy as it sped off. Abby pulled out her cell phone and texted her mother to let her know what had happened, and where she and Morgan were.

On the way, the boy was completely silent as the doctors dried and warmed him, and inspected his body for other injuries. It wasn't until they turned him over did they find the burn on his lower back. The doctors looked grim, but continued to inspect him, and found several scars all over his body, and what appeared to be a partly healed bullet hole in his left shoulder. The doctors all looked shocked at that, but said nothing. Abby took the time to study the boy herself. Her sister was right; he was cute; _really_ cute. He had blonde, choppy curls and looked like he had spent a lot of time in the sun. He had soft, childlike features, but he was lean and fairly muscular. But the most dazzling part of his appearance was his eyes, a deep green with sparkle and a light that she had never seen in someone before. His eyes were captivating, and he looked her age. She felt something rise in her chest, but then shoved it back down forcefully. Not a chance.

She focused on keeping that thought in the back of her mind throughout the ride to the hospital. It was hard work, but finally, after a minute, they arrived at the big building with the Red Cross on the top. After that, it was all so chaotic that she couldn't keep track of what was going on, when. They got the boy to a room where they were inspecting his back some more, and they took Abby and Morgan to an adjoining room where they said a doctor would be with them shortly. There they waited for a few minutes. Abby felt very uncomfortable being at the hospital. It was all so sterile and bare. She felt cluster-phobic, like the walls were closing in around her. Then suddenly, the doctor came in and shut the door behind her. She smiled sweetly at the two girls. She looked very young, and she had black hair that was cut well to frame her round face. She had a clipboard in her hand. She pulled up a chair and took a seat right next to Morgan.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Tiffany. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions about the boy that you found on the beach."

"Isn't that why we're here?" asked Morgan. Abby gave her a look, but Tiffany just smiled and nodded.

"Yes," she replied sweetly. "Now, shall we get started?" Abby and Morgan nodded.

The interview lasted about a half an hour, and finally, Tiffany stood up.

"You are free to go," she said. "One of our ambulances will take you home."

"May we see him?" Abby asked. Tiffany looked puzzled, but she shook her head.

"Doctors are examining him now," she said. "He's possibly is in surgery." Abby looked confused.

"What for?" she asked. Tiffany looked conflicted.

"Doctors found a bullet in his left shoulder," she said. "They need to remove it, or it will get infected." Abby nodded, and took her sisters arm.

"Let's go little elf," Abby said. Her sister followed her out the door and to the reception room. There they waited until the doctor said that he could drive them back to the campsite. As Abby left, she thought about the boy, and wondered if she would ever see him again.

"Are you ready?" asked the doctor.

"Yes," Abby replied.

A/N: Opps! i almost posted this without the authors note, and i know how much everyone loves the authors note :). so this is the actual first chapter. Hope you like it. (by the way, just a fun fact. due to my selfish and vain personality, Abby is actually _**my**_ name, and Morgan is my little sister, who isnt really 8, and i'm not really 12) teehee!

Disclaimer: like i said in the prologue, Peter Pan didnt come from my mind, he came to be by the wonderful J.M. Barrie.

Tiffany: Rock On Barrie!

Disclaimer: Yeah . . . um, okay -_- (note-this is the edited version of this chapter. I am going through fixing mistakes and such. By the time I repost this, I'll have the rest of the current chapters fixed and the 8th chapter done.)


	3. Chapter 2 the Hospital

Chapter 2

Peter

Peter jerked awake to a loud beeping noise. As soon as he moved, people dressed in white were all over him. He felt numb, and he couldn't think clearly. He didn't know where he was, and the people in white were all talking at once so he couldn't understand what they were saying. He tried to sit up, but when he did, the people pushed him back down, saying not to. He listened to them because he felt dizzy when he moved. He looked down at his chest. It was bare, but there was some kind of cloth on his left shoulder. He tried to ask what it was, but everyone was talking so he couldn't be heard. He looked at his hand, and saw a tube sticking out of it. He moved it, and the tube pulled on his wrist. It felt uncomfortable. Finally, the people seemed to get to where they were taking him.

"Hey," he attempted to get in through the roar of voices and clicking noises, but he was drowned out. Someone put a mask over his mouth and instructed him to breathe deeply. Peter struggled, but the drug was to powerful, and he was soon limp and unconscious.

When he woke up, he saw that the area he was in was surrounded by a curtain. He struggled to sit up. His head hurt, and his vision was blurry. Suddenly, a man in a long, white coat pulled back the curtain and looked at Peter. Peter stared back at him. He gestured at the foot of the bed, and Peter realized he wanted to sit and talk. He nodded to show that it was ok. The man sat down.

"How are you feeling?" asked the man.

"Why?" Peter looked puzzled. The man laughed.

"I just want to see if the anesthesia was affective in dulling the pain," he replied. Peter cocked his head curiously.

"What's anesthesia?" he asked. The man laughed again.

"Point taken. But still, how are you feeling?" Peter ignored that question. He was in great pain, but he didn't care for this man to know.

"Where am I?" he asked. The man looked annoyed at his dodging of the question, but he answered.

"You are at the Washington State Children's Hospital."

"Why?"

"You were electrocuted, and lost consciousness over the water. You nearly drowned." The man looked curiously at Peter. "What were you doing out there, anyway? The bruises on your back indicated that you feel from several feet, possibly a hundred. It is nearly impossible to survive a fall like that." Peter shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to answer. The man threw up his hands, exasperated.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" the man asked. Peter nodded.

"It's Peter," he said. The man sighed dramatically.

"Finally!" he said. He put out his hand. "My name is Dr. Hamilton." Peter ignored his hand.

"When can I leave?" he asked instead. Dr. Hamilton looked taken aback, but he shook his head.

"Not until your parents can come and pick you up. We have some information that we would like to discuss with them." Peter looked annoyed.

"I don't have any parents," he said. "They died a long time ago." Dr. Hamilton looked at Peter sadly.

"I'm sorry," he said as he looked away. "What about your foster parents?" he continued. Peter looked confused, but he said nothing. Dr. Hamilton sighed.

"I take it that you don't have any foster parents either?" Peter gave him a look that plainly stated his answer. Hamilton nodded.

"I thought not," he said. He put his head in his hands. "I wonder how you managed to escape the system," he said, mostly to himself. After a moment, he looked up, and plastered a clearly fake grin on his face.

"Well then, I guess we will have to call your emergency contact to see what to do with you."

"You could just let me leave."

"We couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's against the law."

"So."

"So, we can't just release a minor without his parent or guardians consent. There's a lot of paperwork involved." Peter snorted, but said nothing. Dr. Hamilton sighed again, stood up, and offered his hand again. Peter still didn't acknowledge him, and so Hamilton just turned, opened the curtain, and left.

As soon as he was gone, Peter relaxed. Now he could get out of this hospital, and back home, where he knew the boys would be worried. He ripped the needle out of his wrist and had to bite his cheek to keep from crying out and alerting the doctors. The hole in his arm was bleeding, but he didn't pay attention to it. He got out of the bed and noticed that his clothes were strange, almost like a weird blanket. He decided to ignore that too. He opened the window next to his bedside, jumped up into the air . . . and came back down again.

_What?_ He looked at his feet. They were still on the ground. He tried again, but gravity managed to defeat him yet again. He started to panic. He couldn't fly? He couldn't fly! How was he supposed to get home and away from these people if he couldn't fly? He sat on the bed and hung his head. He needed to figure out why this was happening, why he couldn't fly. As soon as he figured that out-

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the curtain. Another doctor came in, and saw Peter bleeding from where his IV was supposed to be. He looked surprised, but he calmly called in several more doctors. Dr. Hamilton was one of them. As they came in, one of them shut the window. Dr. Hamilton sat down next to Peter.

"What were you trying to do?" he asked. Peter said nothing. Another doctor began to clean the blood off of Peter's arm.

"Would you like us to give you injections instead?" said Dr. Hamilton. "Because we could." Peter still said nothing, and continued to look down. Hamilton gave him a funny look, and said something to the other doctors. A different man nodded and left the curtained room. When he returned, he had a vile and a needle. Peter eyed the needle warily, but kept silent. The doctor proceeded to clean the needle, and connected it to the vile. When he was done, he took Peters arm, and cleaned a spot on it. Peter frowned. Then, as the doctor brought the needle closer, Peter leapt out of the way. Dr. Hamilton sighed.

"If your too afraid to let us give you shots, then we'll have to put the IV back in." Peter glared daggers at Dr. Hamilton.

"Don't you _ever_ call me a coward," he spat. Dr. Hamilton looked alarmed.

"I never did," he said quickly. "Lots of people are afraid of shots, and your reaction is perfectly natural. But we have to give you the medicine that will make you better." Peter looked confused.

"Medicine?" he asked. Dr. Hamilton nodded.

"Yes," he said, reassuringly. "Medicine." Peter frowned, and then looked angry.

"I won't let you poison me!" he yelled, and jumped off of the bed.

"I'm not trying to poison you," said Dr. Hamilton. "I'm just trying to keep you well. Now, if you don't want multiple shots, then we'll have to put the IV back in." Peter wanted to resist, but he felt defeated. He couldn't fly, and he couldn't leave so he could see no point in struggling. The man injected the needle in his arm, and Peter flinched, but didn't otherwise struggle. The man taped the IV to his wrist and smiled.

"See," he said. "That wasn't so bad." Peter only glared at him.

"Now," said Hamilton. "Are we going to have any problems? Are you going to try to jump out the window again?" Peter shook his head. Dr. Hamilton looked satisfied, so he signaled for the other doctors to leave. Just as he was about to leave, though, he remembered something and turned back to Peter.

"Your emergency contact is coming to the hospital in a few hours. You've been unconscious for a day, so this isn't such short notice. We'll figure out what to do with you, but in the meantime, you'll stay with them." Peter looked at him curiously.

"Who are they?" he asked. Hamilton smiled.

"They are the family of the girl who saved your life."


	4. Chapter 3 the Hospital pt 2

Chapter 3

Abigael

"We have to go get him now?" exclaimed Morgan loudly. "Didn't he just get there?"

"That was yesterday," said Abby. "He's feeling better now, and since they can't figure out who his parents are, we need to go pick him up, because mom registered us as his emergency contact."

"I know why," Morgan groaned "I just don't see why _I_ need to go. Can't mom just do it, and leave us at home?" Her mom looked at her in the rearview mirror and grinned beneath her black curls. Her green eyes twinkled playfully.

"I thought you said he was cute," she chuckled. "I assumed you would want to see him, since he's awake now." Morgan tilted her head up arrogantly.

"He's not my type," she announced. She smiled slyly and looked at Abby. "But he is yours," she winked. Abby blushed furiously.

"Shut up!" she said quickly. She hastily looked out the window and moved her rich blonde curls to hide her crimson face. After a few minutes, she saw the familiar Red Cross sign, signaling that they had arrived. She sighed with relief. They found a parking spot and strolled to the hospital.

They walked inside and her mom went to the reception desk to get the boy's room number. The girls hovered behind her. Abby saw a blue light out of the corner of her eye. She looked around and saw a fish tank in the wall of the hallway. She walked over to get a closer look. She could see a little ship inside of the tank. She traced it with her finger along the outside. The little ship was 'flying' the skull and crossbones, so she assumed it was a pirate ship. As she looked, a little blue fish head poked out of the side of the ship. It looked like that blue fish in Nemo, um, Dory!

Just then, there was a commotion down the hall. She turned to look, but suddenly something hit her and she fell to the ground. She looked up and saw a blonde haired, green-eyed boy on top of her. His eyes focused intently on her. He looked dazed from the impact because he continued to stare at her blankly. He seemed to realize what he was doing, and scrambled off of her. They stood up at the same time, and found themselves nose to nose. Abby turned away immediately and blushed. The boy continued to stare at her. Abby looked up and met his gaze. He looked familiar, and she felt strange as she looked into his deep green eyes.

All of a sudden, they heard more noises down the hall. Abby looked over the boys shoulder to see a hoard of doctors and nurses running down the hallway. The boy looked around, panicky, trying to find an exit. He saw the front door and bolted towards it, nearly knocking Abby down again. She scrambled out of the way. He was almost to the door when a male nurse came out of nowhere and grabbed his arms. The boy struggled, but was no match for the man's muscles. He was brought over to the waiting doctors and taken back to his room. The boy struggled the whole way. He looked around desperately for someone to help him. His eyes met Abby's, and for an instant she could see the pleading and fear in his gaze. Then he disappeared down the hall. Abby looked at her feet, ashamed that she did nothing to help the boy. She looked up at her mother and walked over to her. Her mother had raised eyebrows, and looked stunned at what was going on.

"Well," she said, and looked quizzically at her oldest daughter. "That was strange." Abby nodded. Her mother looked at her again, and turned back to the desk.

"And where is his room?" she asked the receptionist, continuing their conversation. The receptionist pointed down the hall where the nurses had taken the boy.

"Just down there," she said. "You'll keep walking down that hallway, round a corner and it's the second door on the right." They thanked her and started walking down the hall she had indicated. The only thing Abby noticed was that the walls were completely bare and white. It looked similar to a prison, actually. No wonder the boy had been trying to get away, these walls were suffocating. Her mom began counting room numbers. She kept repeating the number softly to herself. They turned a corner and slowed down.

"Second door on the right," Abby mumbled, and began humming the tune to 'The Second Star to the Right,' from Peter Pan. The moment she walked through the door however, she abruptly stopped humming, and stood still. For just inside the room, she saw that the boy sitting on the bed, the boy she rescued from the beach and brought to the hospital, was the same boy as the would-be escapee.

**A/N: Come on! Anyone with eyes could see that comming! (sorry to those of you who dont have eyes, i intend no offense) Anyway, we finally met there mom, and in my oppionion, she's pretty cool. of course, i'm bias, cuz i made her up. thanks again to those of you who have been reading my story, and thanks JMsoccer35 for helping me write this! **

**sorry its taken me so long to update, i was sick with a HUGE case of writers block. you'll hear that alot. **

**Now i must know, does my story suck, or rock, or is it in between? i will never know if no one reviews this story! (thank you music is the magic, i am not talking about you) hopefully with more chapters people will come to realize that i'm serious! i need motivation! but on a lighter topic, this is the third chapter, and i hope you like it! **


	5. Chapter 4 Nightmares and Rooftops

Chapter 4

Abigael

The car ride home was silent. Abby sat in the front with her mother, and Morgan sat in the back with Peter, which was the boys' name. Peter hadn't said much at the hospital, and neither had she. Her mother had tried to make conversation, but had given up after the fifth, one-word answer from Peter. He was very withdrawn, and seemed determined to keep as much information to himself as possible. So, they rode home listening to the sound of the engine.

The rest of the evening went by quickly. They went home, (he had changed at the hospital, so he was no longer in the gown) and ate a quick dinner. He was shown to his room and that's where he stayed for the rest of the night.

Abby hung around in her room for a while until she thought she would die of boredom, and then walked into the kitchen. She was surprised to find her mom in there, leaning against the counter and sipping slowly on a cup of coffee. As soon as she heard Abby, she looked up and smiled.

"Hey, pumpkin," she said. "What's up?" Abby walked in, leaned next to her mother and sighed dramatically. Her mom chuckled.

"I don't know," she replied. "It's all so confusing." Her mother sighed and put down her coffee cup.

"What is?" she asked. Abby looked at her.

"Peter," she said. Her mother nodded, understanding.

"Just give him time, sweetie," she said reassuringly. "He'll warm up to us on his own time."

"But he's just so distant, it's almost rude," she whined. "It seems like he doesn't care about what we're doing for him." Her mom walked over and hugged her.

"He does care," she said. "He's just scared, that's all. He's in a strange place with strange people. Give him time to get to know us, and he will." Abby giggled.

"It sounds like you're talking about a puppy," she exclaimed. Her mom laughed.

"Yes, in some ways he's a lot like a lost puppy," she said. "What he needs is love, care and a home, just like a puppy." Abby frowned.

"But he's a kid, not a dog," she said.

"Yes, but kids need love just as much as dogs do. Actually, they need even more." Abby nodded.

"Ok," she said. "I think I get it. Thanks mom." She hugged her mom again. Her mom smiled.

"See," she said. "I do know some things. Now get to bed, it's getting late." Abby smiled and nodded.

As she lay in bed, she could hear Peter stirring in the other room. He sure did make a lot of noise when he slept. It sounded like he was having nightmares, he was moving around so much. She gave up on sleep and sat at the edge of her bed, when she heard a noise on the roof.

. . .

Peter

Peter did have nightmares that night, all night. Some of them were so petrifying that he woke up in a fit of panic, drenched in sweat. But he continued to drift back into a disturbed, restless sleep.

The most terrifying of his nightmares went like this.

_He was sitting on his chair in the fort when he heard loud voices outside. He flew out of his chair to the center of the encampment and turned around, slowly, in midair. Then, he flew outside._

_He heard shouts coming from a clearing a few feet away. He flew into the treetops over the voices. He looked down and nearly fell out of the sky. _

_Below him and scattered about the clearing were about fifty pirates. But that wasn't what alarmed him. Right in the center of the clearing were his six original lost boys, blindfolded and gagged with their hands tied behind their backs. They were attached together at the neck with a rope extending on the ground. His eyes trailed down the rope to a pair of boots. His heart thudded in his ears. His eyes traveled slowly up from the black boots, to the crimson coat, to the dark face. The blue eyes scanned the horizon and found him. The cruel mouth curled into a smile. He gestured to the boys with his hook and raised his hand holding the rope. Peters gaze shifted to the rope. Hook smiled again, and with a flick of his wrist, he tugged the rope. The boys yelped and hit the ground with a sickening thud. Peter tried to move, but he was paralyzed in midair._

_There was a commotion where the lost boys lay. Peter looked and saw them stand. They were as tall as the pirates. As he watched, they all grew beards. Their bonds fell to the ground as, one by one, they all stepped behind Hook. Hook caught his gaze and laughed evilly._

"_They're growing up and leaving you Peter," he said, his voice bold and mocking._

"_You're lying!" Peter yelled, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. He could feel the tears threatening to spill over. "They would never leave!" Hook shook his head._

"_Ah, but look," he said, and pointed off into the distance. Peter squinted, and saw Wendy rushing towards them. _

"_Wendy!" he called, but she didn't seem to hear. Instead, she rushed at Hook, looking like she was going to attack him, but instead, wrapped her arms around him… _

_And kissed him._

_She kissed him. _His_ Wendy kissed Hook. His heart shot up to his throat and he fought back tears. He tried to fly down and attack him, to kill him, but he still couldn't move. He tried to scream, but his voice didn't work. He was stuck watching their embrace. As he watched, Wendy's form shifted, and suddenly, she was his mother. His tears were flowing freely now. _

_When they finally pulled away from each other, Hook smiled triumphantly at Peter. _

"_They all leave you, Pan," he spoke with malice. "Every single one of them. What are you, but a mere boy, no purpose; no meaning. They can't stand you anymore, so they just leave you." Peter looked at his mother. She spotted him staring at her, and she grinned._

"_You are nothing," she laughed. "I am glad you left. You were just worthless space which I could use produce a better child; one with purpose and who I could take pride in." She gestured to the edge of the clearing where a young man was coming out in a business suit holding a briefcase. _

"_Your brother has so much more to offer then you do," she spat, and her form shifted again. She was Wendy. She walked over to the man in the suit and wrapped her arms around him in a passionate embrace. _

Peter woke up panting and sweating, stifling a scream. His face had sheen of sweat and tears. He lay back down, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. He shifted around for a few minutes, but with no luck. He got out of the bed, and opened the window. It had this mesh covering on the outside, but it was feeble, so he was easily able to push it out. He climbed on the sill and out onto the roof. He still couldn't fly, so he couldn't leave. He just sat, letting the cold air hit his face. The sky was completely black, not a cloud or a star in sight. But even in the night, he could easily see. He knew that this was due to street lamps from his constant visits, but even now, he didn't understand why people needed them. Everyone should be asleep at this hour. He heard a tap below him. He hastily wiped away the tears that had been falling and looked down to see Abby looking at him through her window. She pointed to the roof and looked at him questioningly. He nodded. She popped the mesh out and skillfully scaled the wall to sit beside him.

They just sat for a long time. He saw that she was wearing just her nightgown in the chilled air. '_I will never understand why girls do that_,' he thought.

Peter was grateful for the company, but also glad that she didn't ask questions. Then, when the silence became awkward, she spoke.

"What's up?" she asked breaking the silence. Peter looked at his feet.

"Needed some fresh air," he said quietly. Abby nodded.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, although she knew the answer. Peter shook his head.

"Nightmares?" she asked. He gave her a weird look. Abby shrugged.

"You moved around a lot in your sleep," she replied to his gaze. He looked back at his feet.

"I guess you could say that." They sat in silence for a little while until Abby spoke again.

"You know, it's ok to have nightmares," she said softly. He gave her the look again. She raised her hands defensively.

"I'm just saying," she began, "That my mom still gets scared at night. I can hear her cry out sometimes." He turned away.

"It's different for me," he said.

"Like how?" she asked.

"Like, well," he paused. "They're just so . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Real?" Abby finished. Peter nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "It was terrifying."

"Bad guys trying to kill you?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. It's hard to explain."

"We've got all night." Peter shook his head.

"It's not that simple," he said. Abby nodded, partially understanding, and dropped it.

"So you've discovered my 'secret' hideout," she said, changing the subject. Peter looked relieved.

"This is your place?" he asked, looking around.

"It was," she said. "I mostly used it for things like this. Not just nightmares, but other things, like school or friend troubles. It helps me think. Now the secret's been blown.'' She playfully shoved him. Peter laughed.

"Your secret's safe with me," he said, smiling at her. Abby beamed back at him.

"Thanks," she said. Peter looked around again.

"It's cool up here," he said.

"Feel free to use this place whenever you want," she said. "It's perfect for getaways when mom's ticked at ya, or Morgan's being annoying. And it's out of sight from the neighbors."

"Well," he said. "That's a bonus," and he laughed. She laughed too. Peter couldn't help noticing that when she laughed, her whole body laughed, from her head to her feet. It felt good to laugh and talk with her. She made him feel so carefree, and he forgot about his nightmare.

They talked for a long time about almost everything. Peter kept his identity to himself, but talked openly about everything else. As the sky started to get brighter, he noticed her eyelids getting heavy. He didn't want her to sleep on the roof, so he announced that they should probably get inside.

"Alright," she said. They slid down the side of the roof and climbed through their windows.

"Goodnight, Peter," Abby said sleepily and shut her window. Peter smiled.

"Goodnight, Abby," Peter said to himself as he closed the window.

**A/N: Hope you liked it. I finally get the chance to post this, cuz the power's been down all week. I'm at a friends house using their internet and power. Snow is great until your peeing in the dark.**

**But anyway, the power's been down at my house so thats why i havent updated. I've had to charge my computer from a battery in my car. But i finished this and havent had the internet to update, so i'm working on the fifth chapter now (almost done!) **

**I'm a big fan of roof scenes, and it seemed to fit with the chapter, so I used it. The nightmare part was tricky to write, and i edited it several times. I'm still not happy with the final result, but i dont know when i'll get to use the internet next, so whatever.**

**Thank you to JMsoccer35 for your help and moral support. And thank you music is the magic for the awesome reviews. Every time someone sends a review or favorites my story i do a little happy dance inside(or outside) and my day is alot brighter. So reviews really make me happy! **

**Disclaimer: Ok, anyone who thinks Peter Pan is mine is clearly crazy (but i'm flattered :))**


	6. Chapter 5 The Land of Make-Believe

Chapter 5

Abigael

Peter danced on the chalk line separating the two teams. He enjoyed teasing the girls just as much as the other boys did when it came to capture the flag. As Jayme darted forward to take a swipe, he arched his back and jumped backwards. Jayme knew that he was just teasing her, but she continued to guard him.

Capture the flag was one of the neighborhoods favorite games, especially in the cold, harsh weather where you had to run especially hard to keep warm. Boys vs. girls' games were common, even though the boys harshly outnumbered the girls in the col-de-sac, four to seven. But two of the boys weren't even in school yet, and sometimes the girls would pull through. So far, this seemed the case, for even with Peter on the opposite team to make eight guys, the girls had managed to catch three boys, and one of the girls, Addie, was on the boy's base looking for the flag. But that left only three girls guarding five boys, and they were already using that to their advantage.

All at once, every one of the boys took off running. Three boys, Sam, Elliot and Ian, went to go and save their fellow teammates, Caden, Anthony and Kyle. One boy, Kamil, who was probably the fastest runner of them all, ran around dangerously close to the girls, drawing their attention away from the real threat. None of them paid attention to Peter, who was running down Kamil's driveway to their base on his porch so fast that not even Kamil could compare. He snatched the flag out of its hiding place in the gutters and ran across the street as fast as his legs could carry him. He was about halfway there when Abby saw him.

"Go for Peter!" she shouted. The girls turned their heads to look, but Peter was already dancing on the chalk line, holding the Spiderman ball high above his head and crowing as loud as he could. He did that every time he won a game. He'd only been there a week, but already other boys had taken to copying him, so they all crowed back and ran over to join him on Sam and Jayme's yard. He was sitting on 'the wall,' which was what they called the bricks that solidified the foundation of the property.

The neighborhood was on a mountain, so most of the houses had a slight slope. It was a different tilt on opposite sides of the street. Jayme, Sam and their younger brother Caden lived in the house with 'the wall.' On either side of them were Addie and Anthony, and Abby and Morgan. All of their yards tilted down towards the street, and were great for sledding. Across the street were Kamil and Kyle, and Elliot and Ian, whose yards sloped down to their houses. The boys all sat along the wall, talking excitedly. Kyle stuck his tongue out at the girls. The girls exchanged annoyed looks, and walked over to join the guys.

"Next time," said Jayme. "It shouldn't be boys versus girls. We need to make it fair teams."

"You're just sore losers," mocked Ian.

"Ya, we had Caden and Anthony on our team," Elliot added.

"Don't be so mean," said Addie, defending her younger brother. Anthony was six, but could already beat half of the boys at basketball. Caden, who was also six, was becoming more aggressive in games like sharks and minnows, ball tag, and capture the flag. It was neat watching two six year olds kick butt in those games. Abby often wondered if they practiced at the basketball hoop in the corner of the lot when no one was around.

"It's still not fair that you have Peter on your team," whined Jayme. "He could take everyone!" Peter looked proud, and he crowed again.

"Yeah, he could even beat you, Kamil," teased Kyle. Kamil scowled and smacked his brother on the head. Kamil then turned to glare at Peter, who continued to grin despite Kamils' sour mood.

"He has to be bad at something," said Sam. Peter laughed.

"I dare you to try and figure it out," mocked Peter. Sam thought for a moment, and Abby couldn't help noticing that, in the third grade, Sam looked exactly like a younger version of Peter. It was quite unnerving, actually, the way that they looked so similar. Suddenly, Sam's whole face lit up.

"I've got it!" he shouted, and he jumped off the wall and ran across the street into Kamil and Kyle's yard. Confused, everyone followed him.

When they got there, they saw Sam holding the two long bamboo sticks that they used for swords. Normally, the two best swordfighters, or "stick-fighters," would use them during their war games, and the rest would carry nerf guns. Abby smiled proudly as she thought of all the neighborhood battles she'd won with the shorter of the two sticks. She'd carved a nick at the end of it to make a point, so it seemed more like a real sword. She was the best swordfighter in the whole group. Only on her bad days could Kamil best her, but he was the second best, so he got to carry the other one. Sometimes, a boy from up the street came down to hang out with Kamil and Elliot, and he was the only one who could beat Abby on a regular basis. But he never came out anymore, so that left Abby the champion.

"I bet he can't beat Abby or Kamil at sword fighting," Sam said. Abby laughed.

"Just because I can beat you, doesn't mean I can beat everybody," she said. Sam shook his head.

"But you and Kamil could probably beat him!" he said. Everyone turned to look at Peter, who was smiling mischievously. An already annoyed Kamil took one look at Peter's expression, then grabbed his longer stick from Sam and pointed it at Peter's chest. Peter continued to eye the stick with the same sly smile, and then, without taking his eyes off Kamil, he put his hand out for the other one. Sam looked at Abby, asking with his eyes. Abby nodded, curious to see how this battle would be played out. Sam tossed it to Peter, who caught it in one hand, and used it to shove Kamils stick out of the way. Then, he struck.

Kamil was powerful, but he just swung as hard as he could, using nothing but his strength. He was extremely tall, but not very well built. He was also slow and didn't use his head.

Peter, on the other hand, had the best of both worlds. He was smaller than Kamil, but he was just as strong (Abby had found that out during a wrestling match that they had earlier in the day). Peter also apparently knew how to move during a match, and his technique was incredible. Abby had taken fencing lessons for a little while, so she knew how to parry and where to place your feet during an attack. But Peter fought better then the advanced fencers that she had seen during her practice sessions. Heck, he fought better than her teacher! He was decisive and swift on his blows and he parried with extreme ease. It was never a fair fight. Peter had Kamil on the grass in a minute, where as it took Abby at least ten until he surrendered. Abby watched him with admiration and a tinge of jealousy. If he could do this with just a stick, she'd love to see him with a foil or a saber.

The rest of the boys stood, gaping at him as he helped Kamil up and onto his feet. Jayme was the first one to speak.

"Well, Sammy," she said. "You sure got that one wrong, didn't ya?" Sam didn't respond, but continued to stare openly at Peter, his mouth gapping. Kamil, the sore loser, grabbed Abby's stick from him and tossed it to her. She caught it with one hand and stared at Kamil, who snickered.

"I'd love to see Abby try and take him," he said. That got everyone's attention, and they all started talking at once.

"Yeah!"

"Come on Abby!"

"Ya, you can do it!"

"Fight!"

Peter looked at her, grinning like a maniac over his last win. Abby wanted to say no, that it wasn't going to happen. She could think of so many reasons that Kamil would want her to fight Peter, not the least of which the fact that he wanted Peter to get back at her for all the times she whooped his ass. But she couldn't say no. Sure, she wasn't terrific, but she honestly thought that she could at least lose in a more graceful way that Kamil had. There was no way she could win, but she felt she had to try. So she nodded. Kamil tossed Peter his stick. Peter smiled and raised the bamboo. Abby copied him, and raised her left hand behind her back for balance.

Peters smile widened as he lunged towards her, bringing the stick down from above. Their sticks clashed as Abby parried. Peter was the first to draw back, and made another lunge, this time aiming for her legs. Abby panicked, but managed to leap out of the way. It continued this way, with Peter striking, and Abby dodging and parrying. She was very impressed with Peter's immense skill.

After a minute of their banter, Abby saw Peter's first mistake. He'd overshot his last attack, and was unbalanced. She took the opportunity to take a swipe at Peter's front leg. It took him a second to catch his error, but he managed to parry in time. During that attack, however, Abby's mind set changed. So far, she'd been working on defense only. She felt like a chicken, not daring enough to venture out of her comfort zone. Peter was really good, but she wasn't bad herself. She was going to prove that she was no pushover like Kamil. So at the next opening, she struck. He deflected it, but his cocky smile was wiped off his face. His brow creased, and he frowned in concentration.

Suddenly, her vision became blurry and something shiny caught her eye. It was her stick! She stared at it for a moment, and watched as it shifted from the shiny thing, back to bamboo. Wait… A shiny thing? She blinked hard, and stared at it again. Sure enough, she saw it once more. The sticks weren't sticks anymore; they were swords. And this was no longer Kamil and Kyle's backyard; it was a pirate ship. Her left ear became much heavier. She looked at herself and saw that she was wearing a large, gold hoop earring and a pirates dress. She looked up and realized that Peter was having the same epiphany, but instead of him in a pirate outfit, he was clad in autumn leaves and was barefoot. What was strange was that he seemed to fit in more in this getup then in his actual clothes. His wide smile returned, and he jumped towards her and brought his sword down. She raised hers, and metal hit metal.

She let her instincts take over, and fought him back hard. She never knew that she was this good. She started to consider the possibility that she might actually beat him. They raced along the deck, crashing their swords together and laughing. Abby was having the time of her life. Never before had she felt this free, or this alive. It was amazing! It was clear Peter was having just as much, if not more, fun as she was.

Suddenly, Peter pulled a move that Abby had never seen before. He side stepped, feinted left, and then while Abby was busy blocking it, he tossed his sword in the air, dropped down to his knees, and kicked out with his foot to hit her in the leg. She fell to the ground, and watched him stand back up, catch his sword and point it at her chest. His smile widened as he motioned for her to surrender. She was caught off guard, but she dropped her sword. As he went to kick it out of the way, Abby took the opportunity to kick out at his leg. Unfortunately, he was ready for her, and he jumped out of the way, laughing. He kicked her sword out of the way, and helped a huffing Abby off of the ground. He saw her miffed expression, and smiled apologetically.

"I've had that one pulled on me before," he explained. Abby rolled her eyes, but smiled at him.

"Great fight," she said. "I've never seen anyone fight like that before."

Suddenly, the ship started to melt away, and she and Peter were transported back to Kamil and Kyle's backyard. She looked down, and to her dismay, she was no longer wearing her pirate dress. She saw that Peter's leaves had magically been replaced with his regular clothes as well and their swords had turned back into sticks. _What was that?_ Abby thought. What had happened? Where had they gone? She considered that for a moment, and then realized that they had traveled into the world of Make Believe, which was a place that she hadn't been to for a long time. It'd been many years ago, but she could remember a sensation like that from when she'd played with her sister. But with Peter, the place seemed much clearer.

Suddenly, Abby realized that everyone was staring at them with their mouths open, and she remembered that they had seen the whole thing. She'd forgotten that they were there. They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity. Peter was the first one to break the silence.

"Well," he said. "That was fun." As soon as he spoke, it felt like a spell had been broken and all the others started talking at once.

"Wow! That was amazing!"

"Where'd you learn all those cool moves?"

"Do it again!"

"I didn't know you could fight like that, Abby!"

"Could you teach me?"

Abby thought for a moment. Where had she learned to fight like that? She'd never been able to fight that well before, so what was the deal? Maybe it did have something to do with the world of Make Believe. Maybe her skills increased when she imagined it. She didn't know for certain, but that seemed as good a reason as any, so that's the one that she stuck with. But she didn't tell the boys that.

"I don't know how I did that," she half lied. "I suppose it just… came to me." She shoved Kamil, playfully. "Maybe I've just never had a worthy opponent!" Kamil was still in shock, so that comment didn't register immediately, but when it did, he glared daggers at her and didn't speak.

"Well, we should be going," said Peter. "I'm starting to get hungry." The boys began whining.

"You're just ditching us!"

"Yeah, can't you eat later?"

"When are you coming out again?" Peter just shrugged.

"I don't know when, but I'll ring your doorbell when I do," he said. Then, he gestured for Abby and Morgan to follow him into the house. Abby happily obliged, glad to leave all of the astonished and disbelieving eyes of her friends. Morgan just followed her older sister.

Peter walked quickly, and Abby struggled to keep up. When she finally did reach him, she asked quietly,

"What was that? I've never fought like that before in my life. And you…" her voice trailed off. Peter shook his head.

"Not here," he said, "and not now. I'll explain soon, I promise." Abby looked skeptical, but she nodded as they walked inside. When they closed the door, she heard her mom call out to them from the kitchen.

"Back inside so early?" Peter nodded, but then probably realized that she couldn't see them. **(Review if you've ever done this)**

"Yeah Ms. Sumpter," he said. "We got hungry." They heard a rustling in the kitchen.

"I told you to call me Bryn," her mom said. "How many times do I have to say it?" Peter smiled softly.

"You mean _you_ got hungry," complained Morgan. "_I_ was perfectly fine, accept that I knew that if you went inside, the boys would probably go inside too, cause it's cold, and then there'd be no one to play with."

"There are Addie and Jayme," said Abby. "They'd likely stay out." Morgan shook her head, and then beckoned for Abby to lean in closer.

"Jayme's got a crush on Peter," she whispered. "She'd go inside as soon as he left, and then watch from her window to see when he comes out again. Or she'd wait until he rings the doorbell for Sam." Abby frowned.

"She does not," she said.

"Does too," said Morgan. "Caught her staring at him all match, guarding him really closely and flirting with him the whole time." Abby didn't know how to reply. Of course, it was adorable that Jayme had a crush on Peter, she was only nine. But as she thought about it, she could feel something ugly rising within her, the little green, nasty monster. She knew this feeling; she'd felt it often enough, except never over a boy. She hated it. She hated the way it made her feel, and the way it sometimes made her act. And Jayme was only nine years old! It was supposed to be sweet and cute that she liked him. Shoot, she needed to get a grip! She didn't like him; this was just her naturally competitive nature talking to her. _'Snap out of it, Abby,'_ she thought to herself. It's Jayme. Not like its Addie, then she'd really have a problem. She mentally slapped herself. _'Stop this now!'_ she wanted to scream. Luckily, her thoughts were interrupted as they walked into the kitchen, because Morgan immediately started talking.

"Mom, Mom! You'd never guess what Peter can do!" she didn't wait for her mother to guess. "He can swordfight! Sam thought he couldn't, so he gave him Abby's sword and he fought Kamil and really kicked his, um, I mean he beat him," she said nervously, catching her mother's look. "But then, since Abby is the best swordfighter in the neighborhood, Sam and Kamil thought that Abby could beat him. Well, she nearly did, but then he disarmed her, and then-" she continued to recap the day's events to her mother. By the time she'd finished, Peter was leaning against the counter eating an apple and Abby was sitting on a little stool that they kept in the kitchen.

"I don't think you breathed six times during that whole story," said Peter, laughing. Morgan shrugged.

"I'm talented like that," she said. "So what do you say? Will you do it?" Peter stared at her, confused.

"Do what?" Morgan rolled her eyes. Peter shrugged off her gaze and took another bite of the apple.

"Do what? I wasn't paying attention," he said with his mouth full.

"Take the fencing class!" said Morgan. Peter nearly choked on his apple.

"W-What?" he spluttered. Morgan looked annoyed.

"The fencing class," she said, "the one that Abby took. Cept not at the level that she was at. She was a one, and you belong in at least an 8."

"Morgan," Abby said softly. "They don't have levels. The classes are beginning, intermediate and advanced." Morgan thought for a moment.

"Advanced then," she said. Abby sighed.

"He'd be the youngest in his class," she said. "If he even wants to do it." She looked at Peter. "Do you?" she asked.

"I doubt they have classes advanced enough for me," he teased. "I've had years of practice."

"How long have you taken fencing lessons?" Bryn asked. Peter shook his head.

"Never have," he replied. Abby's jaw dropped, and she stood up and walked over to him.

"What?" she asked, astonished. "I, you… what?"

"I've never taken fencing lessons," he said, and then chuckled as if he had some inside joke with himself. "Never had the time I suppose. I kind of had to teach myself," he said, and then started to laugh openly.

"What's so funny?" Morgan said. Peter shook his head, as he tried to calm himself down.

"Nothing," he said, coughing to make himself stop. Abby raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "I just don't see the use of fencing lessons, that's all," he said, and then smiled his arrogant smile that he used when he was full of himself. "I've put grown men on the ground with my skills," he exaggerated as he flexed his muscles. Abby rolled her eyes, and smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Liar," she said. Peter rubbed his arm and gave her his best and most pathetic puppy dog face.

"My lady," he teased. "Your words slice through my heart like ice!" She smacked him again. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "You're so hard to please," he said, and tossed his apple core in the trash, basket ball style.

"Well, I agree with Morgan on the idea of fencing classes," said Bryn. "I think it would be a good to get involved, and if that means fencing, then I say go for it." She gestured at Abby. "I think you should pick it back up again as well. It would be good for the both of you."

"You just want to get Peter involved so that you can start sending him to school," said Morgan. Peter's eyes widened, alarmed. He looked kind of like a deer in the headlights. Bryn shook her hands in the air.

"No, no," she said. "He doesn't have to go to school now if he doesn't feel comfortable."

Morgan crossed her arms and pouted. "Then why do we have to go to school and he doesn't?" Bryn kissed her daughters head.

"Because he isn't my child and _you_ are," she said and tapped Morgan lightly on the nose. Morgan continued pouting, and Abby laughed.

"Anyway," Bryn turned to Abby and Peter, who were leaning on the counter. "What do you say?" They both looked at each other, and nodded.

"Sure," said Peter.

"I don't see why not," said Abby.

. . .

Far away, in another world, a man was standing on a windy beach as waves crashed onto the sand with immense power. Storm clouds covered the sky. Wind and rain whipped his long, black hair into his face, but he ignored it. His penetrating blue eyes gleamed with anticipation. His red tailcoat was already soaked by the time he stepped into the water. He raised his scarred face to the stormy heavens. Raindrops spilled down his cheeks as he took one step after another into the dark water, until his face was all you could see of him. He hesitated, and then took a deep breath as he walked the last step and was engulfed in the waves.

He opened his eyes and continued to hold his breath, until his lungs were screaming. Then, he took a breath… and inhaled air. He smiled evilly; a smile that could curdle milk and terrified children everywhere. He looked even more sinister with his black curls swirling around his menacing face, and his coat an ominous crimson. The piece of metal attached to his left arm glinted in the light of the storm.

'_I'm coming for you boy,'_ he thought as he took another step. _'I'm coming.'_

**A/N: I know, i'm a horrible excuse for a human being! So many things were going on last month, like i auditioned for, and got into a play at school, had to choreograph a dance for the play, had a research paper due, wrote a hp fanfic, and a whole bunch of other stuff. i am soo sorry that i havent had time to update in forever, but hopefully this long chapter makes up for it (i rewrote it twice, i hated the first 2)**

**Anyway, R&R! i got more reviews for my other story then i have for this one! thats just sad, cuz its only 2 chapters. please? i'm hoping to get to 15 this week. **

**This is the edited version of the chapter. i put it up to quickly, so now i took the time to fix things. hope to be posting more soon! (haha, this is the re-reedited version)**


	7. Chapter 6 Fencing Class

Chapter 6

Peter

"Again!" shouted the instructor from behind his mask. Peter stood fully clad in the white garments that were traditional for the sport, holding his wire mask in the crook of one arm, and aimed his sword to the ground with the other, was watching as the fencing teacher collected himself to bow to Peter. Peter smirked and then dipped his head in acknowledgement. The rest of the class looked at the two in awe; they'd never seen someone make so much of a fool of the, apparently, experienced fencer. Peter was not only winning, he fought with extreme ease, as if this were child's play to him. They were all eager to see what would continue.

Peter slipped the mask over his head and walked over to meet him in the center of the room, the wires dragging on his lame. **(for those of you who've never fenced, or don't know the terms for it, a lame is an electrical signifier that is connected to the scoreboard to record who hits whom)** He raised his saber. The instructor got into position and then lunged.

Peter easily parried the blow and then saw the opening in the teachers' guard and hit him in the side with the weapon. The beeper went off above them, signifying the point that was scored. The instructor looked ready to boil over, so he called off the match.

"That's enough for today," he said through clenched teeth. "We'll continue next week." He waved his arm and the class was dismissed. Immediately the little group crowded around Peter.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"How long have you been fencing?"

"That was so cool! I've never seen anyone beat him at all, let alone the way you did!"

"Have you ever taught anyone?"

Peter did his best to answer as many questions as he could without giving away his identity. They were very similar to the ones the boys asked in the neighborhood, and to be honest, he liked the attention.

Just then, he saw Abby out of the corner of his eye. She was putting away her equipment. She caught him looking her and she smirked, as if to say, 'conceited much?' He was a little annoyed by that, so he stuck up his nose and started being more dramatic and daring with his answers while the little group hung on his every word. He occasionally glanced over at her to see if she was looking, but she never was, and eventually everyone but a few stragglers had cleared out. Peter looked around and saw that she had left too. She was probably waiting in her mom's car for him to get ready.

Peter sighed and took off the lame and the white overcoat and hung them up, along with his saber, his glove and his mask. He didn't see the use in those things. If you got hit, it was your own fault. He much preferred to fight unarmored. It made the fight much more exciting. But these people were big into safety, and he wasn't allowed to participate without them. He'd tried, at the beginning of the class when it was obvious that he was way above the level that Abby was placed at. But they wouldn't let him do it, so he obliged to follow these rules if he wanted to participate.

The training turned out to be pretty pathetic compared to what he was used to. They made you stand a certain way, and hold the sword a certain way, and place your feet a certain way. Heck, they even made you breathe a certain way! He'd done just fine without the lessons using his own stance, and these new ways were messing him up. Still, he needed some way to keep in practice, and this was the best he had. If only the teacher wasn't mediocre. The memory of the old cods face as he beat him for the third time brought a smile to his lips as he trudged out the door.

He walked up to the car and opened the door to the backseat. It's been almost two weeks and he still didn't understand why people used these things. He realized they couldn't fly, but still! Having something so solid between you and the earth, it wasn't like a ship or the sky. And the shoes! They restricted the movement in your feet and held them in. He couldn't feel the dirt between his toes or on his soles. He'd spent years of walking to develop calluses like the lost boys had so that he could run around like they did when flying displeasured him (it never did) or when the clouds were too low to see anything, and now when he got back, his feet were going to be as soft as a baby's bottom!

If he got back. He'd tried not to think about it, but it kept coming back to him anyways, like an annoying bumble bee. And like an annoying bumble bee, he'd thought it best to ignore it. But now he was starting to get worried. The longest he'd been gone from them without visiting them occasionally was two weeks, and it was getting close to two weeks, and they hadn't seen him. Would they be worried? And Hook. He growled softly in the backseat as they drove. If Hook had done anything to anyone, he wouldn't live to regret it. He needed to focus more of his energy on getting home. He was starting to worry if he could. He still couldn't fly no matter how hard he tried.

"So how'd it go?" asked Bryn, interrupting his train of thought. Luckily, Abby answered for him.

"Fine," she said. "Peter whooped the teachers as- um, I mean, he beat him really bad. The guy's a sore loser, so he dismissed the class early, probably so he could wallow in self pity." Her mom laughed, but Peter couldn't see what was so funny. The guy was terrible! He had no balance, and he couldn't hit a man to save his life! It was hard to believe no one had ever beaten him before.

"Apparently, the teacher is resigning," said Bryn. "He's been at the school for more than ten years and wants to find something else to do. He handed in his resignation slip a few days ago, so this was his last class." Peter and Abby locked eyes.

"Who will be replacing him?" asked Abby.

"Oh, some man from out of town," replied Bryn. Then she smiled at them from the rearview mirror. "So tomorrow you'll have a new teacher. How exciting! Maybe he'll be able to match your skills, Peter." Peter smiled weakly. He doubted it, but he had more important things on his mind at the moment.

Soon, they arrived back at the house. It was late, so Peter raced inside so that he could out his only personal possession. A few days after he'd come to stay with the Sumpters, he found his pan flute sitting on his bed after breakfast. It was really the only thing he had to remind him of Neverland, so he played it often. Abby sometimes liked to listen to him play, but he was very protective of it. When he played, he was able to think of something as grand as the sunrise over the mountain, or as simple as the mermaids playing by the stream. It made him feel less homesick.

He went to his room, sat on his bed and played. At some time, he couldn't remember when, Abby came in and sat cross legged on the floor to listen. It didn't halt him for a second, and he played on and on. Today, he thought of the pirates and all of Hooks endeavors to kill him. The tunes he played were fast paced and adventurous. The notes rang out, loud and sharp as he lost himself in their many battles. He could see himself the day he cut off Hooks hand so many years ago. He could feel the terror he felt that day at facing an unknown foe, who, at the time, had much more skill then him. But Peter had the advantage; flight. He had gotten in to close to the blade, so he'd swung the dagger blindly, not knowing where it would land. Well, it landed on Hooks left wrist, swiping cleanly through the bone, making him drop the sword in pain. In truth, he didn't throw it to the croc; he kicked it into the sea where the monster happened to be waiting. Ever since then, Hook sought vengeance. Peter had to admit, he was a worthy opponent, highly unlike the man who had just given a horrible display of swordsmanship. It was almost embarrassing.

Then he remembered Hooks most recent attempt to kill Peter. The tune turned melancholy. He had tried a similar trick before, many years ago when Wendy was there. And Peter, the boy that he was, had almost fallen for it again. And he would have, too, had it not been for Tinkerbelle.

Hook had poisoned the stream leading to the boy's underground dwelling. The boys were out for a day of hunting with the Indians. Tink, who could never stomach such a thing as killing an animal, stayed behind. When Peter got back, he looked for her everywhere, shouting and calling for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, after a day and a half of searching, one of the boys went to the stream to fetch some mangos. They never drank by the water of the stream, because they had their own spring that came up from the rocks not ten yards away from their home. The lost boy, his name was Socs, found her by the bank of the stream. She drank the water, and now she was dead.

He paused for a moment in the music to clear his head. Abby looked up curiously to see what was the matter. _Forget it Peter!_ He thought to himself. _Forget it, or else she'll know._ He shook his head and continued playing. The tune was still sad, but he tried hard not to think about Tink. Eventually, he gave up.

"Don't stop," said Abby. "It was amazing."

"I have to," Peter replied. "I'm almost out of breath."

"May I try?" asked Abby. Peter looked at her for a moment, but reluctantly handed it over. She took the instrument to her lips and blew softly. It produced one, deep note. She tried again with a higher note, but couldn't seem to position her mouth right, so the sound came out in shallow rasps. She laughed and handed it back to Peter.

"I suppose I'm more of a piano person," she said. Peter nodded and placed it on the sill. He gazed out the window. Abby stared at him questioningly.

"Wanna go up?" she gestured outside. In reply, Peter opened the window and scrambled outside to the roof. She sighed and followed him up.

They sat in silence for a few minutes in the damp, cold air. At least they both had warmer clothes on. Peter wasn't used to the cold like this. In Neverland, it was always warm, even when the leaves changed color and fell. He supposed now it was cold since he was gone. He didn't understand why it did that. Whenever he was there, it was warm, but whenever he left, it turned cold again. At least, that's what the boy's told him. Finally, Abby spoke.

"So where are your parents?" she asked. He looked at her, surprised. Never before had she brought that up.

"Um, I told you. I don't have any."

"Are they dead?" she asked sympathetically.

"I suppose."

"You mean you don't know?" Peter shook his head.

"I never cared to find out," he replied. "I suppose they are dead now that it's been so long. I haven't thought about them in awhile." That, of course, was a lie. He had nightmares about them often, especially his mother. In fact, he was quite fond to think of Bryn his new mother, even though she was a grown up.

"Where did you live?" she asked again. "Before here."

"Around," he said.

"Around?" she repeated.

"Why are you so curious all of a sudden?" he mentioned to deflect her answer. She shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "I just am. It's not a crime, is it?"

"I suppose not," replied Peter. She didn't say anything for awhile, to the point where Peter thought she was bored, but then she spoke up.

"What's your favorite story in the whole wide world?" Peter looked taken aback by this question, so he deflected the conversation to her.

"I don't know. What's yours?" She got this serene look on her face, as if the very thought of it brought her extreme joy.

"Oh," she said dramatically. "I don't know either. It's too hard to pick."

"Just choose one," he said. She smiled.

"I'd have to say either the Scarlett Pimpernel, or Peter Pan," she answered. Peter got intensely uncomfortable and self-aware after that, but he felt obliged to say something so as not to draw her attention to the matter.

"Um, never heard of them." That was also not true in the slightest. Wendy used to tell him stories about The Scarlett Pimpernel and he was not ignorant of the fact that there were stories told about him either. He used to love that kind of thing. It gave him a surge of pride and happiness to hear the fantastical stories told about him while he was listening at the window. But that was when Wendy knew who he was. Abby on the other hand, had no clue, and he was not about to tell her anytime soon if he didn't have to.

Abby's eyes widened. "You don't know those stories?" she asked quietly. She looked totally serious, her face grim. Peter looked worried, but he shook his head. She stood up.

"Come on," she said and started walking down the roof to the window.

"Where are we going?" asked Peter.

"We are going to show you the best movies of all time." Peter looked confused, but he followed her down the roof anyways.

They jumped inside through the window and shut it behind him. Abby led Peter down to the basement where she started fumbling with what Peter knew to be the television set, although he still wasn't quite sure what it did. He had seen Bryn and Morgan sitting on the couches watching it, and there appeared to be moving pictures inside of it, but that was about all he knew. Once Abby was done, she ran over to the couch to sit down. She gestured that he was to sit down next to her and watch the screen. He sighed and trudged over to sit down next to her.

For the next hour, he was forced to sit through what Abby said was the best movie of all time. He didn't know what that meant, but he knew that it was pretty embarrassing. She called it _Peter Pan, the 2003 live action version._ It was basically a story about him, or at least his life when Wendy was there. He couldn't quite wrap his head around how well they knew him. It was quite unnerving actually. He assumed Wendy wrote it down, or at least passed the stories on to her children who wrote it down, because even he didn't remember most of this stuff. The person that was supposed to be him didn't really look much like him (at least in his opinion. Abby commented on how similar they looked a few times throughout the movie). He had blond hair and looked a few years older. All of the other characters looked ridiculous. He voiced his opinions loudly, which resulted in him getting smacked in the arm several times by a very annoyed Abby.

"Hook looks weird!" he said loudly as the first scene on the pirate ship arrived.

"Shut up!" said Abby as she smacked his arm. "Jason Isaacs is an amazing actor who looks amazing in this role, and I won't hear another word against him!"

When the part in the black castle happened, Peter felt himself drawn to the screen, even though he vaguely remembered what happened. Every time the boy on the screen pulled a cool move, or had a good comeback, he couldn't help but feel a little smug. That was, until Hook got the upper hand.

"No!" shouted Peter, standing up. "That's not how it happened!" Then, he realized what he'd just said, and looked down at Abby. Luckily, she didn't notice because she was too enthralled in the movie.

"Sit down!" Abby said as she pulled him down. "This is my second favorite part!" Peter was about to ask what her favorite part was, when he heard the ticking of the crocodile coming from the screen and turned his head to watch.

Then came the scene with Tink and for the first time, he discovered what she'd done when he banished her the first time. To learn that she'd been plotting with Hook for his demise made him angry, but then came the part where she sacrificed herself to save him. He almost couldn't watch; it was so similar to what had happened recently. He tried to get all the children to believe this time, but it didn't work. He wondered why this time was different. The kids who believed kept getting younger and younger.

Then Tink came back to life and they went to the pirate ship. The lost boys and Wendy were freed and were now fighting. Abby grabbed Peter's arm and pointed to the screen.

"This is my favorite part," she said. Peter looked confused. Abby sighed.

"It's the climax," she said. "Just watch." And watch they did. Peter watched as Hook managed to get a hold of Tinkerbelles' pixie dust and saw them both flying around the ship calling out insults at each other. Then Hook started talking about Wendy and Peter visibly flinched. He could see the person on the screen falter too. He started slowly decreasing altitude until a final blow from Hook caused him to plunge to the deck. He was beaten badly and Hook was about to kill him when the girl stepped in and threw herself at Hooks arm causing him to pause. He shoved the girl to the deck with the boy and that's when Abby started shaking with excitement.

"Here it comes!" she exclaimed. "When Peter gets better all because of a single…" she trailed off as she watched the screen. Peter was blushing profusely now as he saw the girl on the screen lean down next to the boy and give him a thimble. He knew what it was really called, but that made it no less embarrassing. His cheeks were red for a few more moments until the boy on the screen yelled loudly and flew up to the sky triumphantly. Peter wished he could do that. Watching this only made him crave flight more.

The rest of the movie ended when the boy sent Hook to his death by crocodile. Peter couldn't remember that ever happening. Hook never died, did he? If he did, he couldn't remember it. But that wasn't saying much, since he didn't remember a lot of things. Just then, her mom could be heard calling from upstairs.

"Abby! Peter! It's late. You don't have to go to bed, but no more television!"

They headed up the stairs and down the hall until they got to Peter's room. Abby cleared her throat.

"Well," she said. "Did you like it?"

"I suppose," he replied.

"You didn't like it?"

"No," he said quickly. "I did. It's just," he paused.

"It's just what?" Abby asked.

"Nothing. Never mind." Peter could tell she was annoyed with his answer but he didn't offer anything more. After she was sure he wasn't going to say anything, she nodded.

"Alright. Goodnight," she said, and turned to go to her room.

"Goodnight," replied Peter, walking in his room and shutting the door behind him.

. . .

The next day they got up late. Bryn eventually had to get Peter up so that he could eat some breakfast before fencing class. The two kids hurried to get ready and then Bryn rushed them to the car.

They arrived late and so they had to rush in to get their uniforms on quickly before they were noticed. Unfortunately, the class was already standing in lines holding their masks and their sabers when the two children arrived. They tried to slip in unseen, but a voice from the far end of the gym showed that that wasn't happening.

"Do you two children care to explain to the class why you were late this morning?" came a low, gruff voice. Peter's head snapped up as he heard it. _He recognized this voice. Where did he know it?_ The speaker stepped out into the center of the gym as Peters heart caught in his throat.

"You," he half whispered, half choked. The man's cold blue eyes glinted in the light of the saber held up to his face as he smiled cruelly. Peter could have sworn he heard him say,

"That's right boy. Me."

**A/N: Hey! Its Abbl2. Yeah, i wouldnt blame you if you dont want to hear from me. i wouldnt want to hear from me either. I know i'm a horrible excuse for a human being. I hate the fact that its been so long, but so many fics, so little time to write them down. When an idea comes to you, you just gotta take it. Carpe Diem! **

**That being said, this chapter would have been much more fun to write had authors block not hated me for three months. I finally completed the last four pages of the chapter over the last week or so, whenever i could find time. I think those last few paragraphs were my favorite to write this whole time. I love writing about villians! It just gives me goosebumps and chills! And i absolutly DID NOT LIKE writing the movie scene. And its sad, because i really hoped i would. In the end, I just ended up writing it because i needed a filler. And i realize that it was long and drawn out, but oh well. there are some things in this world we cannot choose. i couldnt help it either.**

**A few things. 1, thanks to those of you who've reviewed my stories recently. Senshi Sun and doubletrouble especially. doubletrouble, i realize you dont have an account, and that bothers me. i want to be able to thank you personally for your kind reviews. they, i think, are what got me out of my endless authors block and my refusal to write this chapter and just Get On With It! I regret to say, i cannot use most of your ideas, but a Kate and a Claire Chandler will show up in this story. Maybe claire can be best friends with morgan or something like that. 2, SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! for some of you, it may already be, but for me, i have 8 more days of school left, so life is still annoying. but hopefully (and hope is the key word there) it will give me more time to write. dont hold me to that however. 3, many ideas are running through my head right now for other stories, mostly harry potter involved, so you'll probably be seeing more of that and less of Peter, but rest assured, i have many plans for this, so dont give up on me and i wont give up on you! that being said, REVIEW! PLEASE! Like i told you, reviews can do powerful things. if nothing else, just say something like "cute" or "this sucks." if its the latter, i may pm you to find out why, but you are in no way obliged to answer me. kapiche?**

**Mmk. hope you liked this (7 page) long chapter! love you all! Review!**


	8. Chapter 7 A New Teacher

**A/N: ok, I feel the need to say this now. I am so sorry for the late update and such. I feel like such a mean person for leaving you all with a cliffy and the not updating in forever. My only excuse is that my interests change. I still love peter pan dearly, but I have recently gotten into a children's show (but it's not really a children's show. Older kids can enjoy it too) called Avatar; the Last Airbender. Actually, I already loved it before, but now that Legend of Korra has come out, I am now, well, I wouldn't say obsessed, but I am really into it. I'll talk about this during the A/N at the bottom, along with other things that must be mentioned. Read on folks!**

"_That's right boy. Me."_

Peter was paralyzed. The sight of that man standing before him in an environment where he couldn't reveal his identity froze him as still as a statue. Then, he seemed to come to his senses and felt a rush of rage and hatred causing the sides of his vision to go hazy.

"You!" he repeated furiously, and looked around desperately for a weapon. He grabbed the nearest saber and charged at him. He was so blinded by his anger that the man was able to sidestep him and hit him in the small of his back with his weapon, directly on the burn. Peter wasn't wearing any uniform and the flesh was still raw, so as soon as the blade hit him he gasped in pain. He cursed himself for showing weakness. He shook his head to clear it and then turned around angrily, charging the man again.

"What are you doing here!" Peter snarled as he lunged. The man smirked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, boy," he mocked.

As he brought the weapon down from above, he noticed something. The piece of metal that was always attached to his left wrist was gone, leaving there an empty space. The absence of the hook made him question himself. Did he have the wrong man? He looked back up to his face. His hair was short and blonde, which was quite different from the dark curls that once framed his features. His mustache had also disappeared, leaving the area around his mouth clean shaven. It really was hard to tell…

Then, Peter focused on his eyes and felt an unpleasant shiver run up his spine. His forget-me-not blue eyes told him what he needed to know. How could he have doubted himself? That cold blue gaze, which had so often looked upon him with hatred and malice, was what was boring down on him now. He had seen them turn red on many occasion and the sight struck fear into every small child's heart, including his own (although he would never let it show). Peter glared at him viciously.

"How ironic is it that you chose this as your false profession?" Peter said. "Tell me, did you do this on purpose?"

"Why, what do you mean, boy?" the man said, smiling. This caused Peter to get angrier.

"Don't lie to me, you coward!" he shouted. "You killed her!" The man shook his head as he parried and struck Peter on the shoulder.

"Like I said," he explained calmly. "I don't have any idea what you are talking about. And I assure you that I did not kill anyone."

"Liar!" Peter shouted, and swung the blade down as hard as he could. The man parried, but Peter twisted his handle. His sword fell out of his hands with a clatter. Peter took a step closer, kicked the saber out of the way and raised his own, aiming for his neck.

"I know it's you, you murderer," Peter said. "Just because your hair is blonde, your mustache is gone and your hook is not on your hand doesn't mean that I won't recognize you." Hook shook his head.

"I'm afraid you have me confused for someone else."

"I don't."

Hook looked angrily at Peter and reached down to pick up his sword. Peter tried to push it away again, but Hook grabbed it before he could get to it and brought it down from above. Peter quickly raised his sword in defense, but Hook took a step closer and leaned down so that he was right next to Peter's ear.

"Don't defy me boy," he whispered. "I can make your life even more of a living hell then it already is. You know that I can. I would hate for something to happen to that girl you've come so close to. She reminds me a lot of another young girl you once took a fancy to so long ago. What was her name-Wendy?" Hook's vicious lips curled in a small smile as he saw the reaction that last statement got out of Peter.

"Don't you dare say another thing about her, you monster," Peter growled.

"I will speak all I like about whomever I like," Hook whispered harshly. "Now, don't say another word on the subject of our relationship. Got that?"

Peter didn't want to agree to anything, but Hook had a point. If there was anyone who could screw up the life he'd made here, it was him. It wasn't like he planned on staying or anything; he just needed a place to stay while he figured out a way to get home. He didn't want to be on the streets. He knew just how unkind they could be to children like him. It was where he lived before he discovered Neverland. Peter wasn't sure on how much things had changed since he'd been in London, but this was America and several hundred years after he had lived on earth. Things might be better. Even so, he didn't want to risk it. And Hook was also right about Abby. She had no way to defend herself against this man. If he did anything to challenge Hook, he might take it out on her. There was no way in hell that Peter would let that happen. He decided that it was best to listen for now.

Peter took an angry step back and pointed his sword tip to the ground. For the first time, he looked around to see all of the students, including Abby, standing stock still staring open mouthed at him and Hook. He imagined how it looked; an angry student accusing their teacher of murder and seemingly attacking him for no reason. Well, this was a fencing class, but still. From their perspective, it probably did look a little crazy. He would have some explaining to do. Fortunately, Hook did it for him.

"Class," he explained. "Although it's none of your business, I can imagine this would look a little odd. Peter and I have met before. This poor child blames me for the death of his parents, and he got a little angry at the sight of me. But he has assured me that none of this is relevant and this kind of outburst will never happen again." Peter glared at Hook, but he didn't say anything.

"But you said you didn't know him," a boy said. Hook looked at the boy with mock sadness.

"That was before I recognized him," he replied. "Now, let's put this little incident behind us, shall we? Peter, once you get suited up, you may stand over there," he pointed to the far corner of the room, as far away from Abby as possible. Peter gritted his teeth, but obeyed. He would have to explain everything to her later.

Hook smirked as he watched Peter suit up. Then he turned to address the class.

"Anyway, like I was saying, my name is Mr. Harper, but you all can call me Jimmy." A girl raised her hand.

"Sir?" she asked. "I know this is kind of personal, but how did you lose your hand?" Hook frowned.

"And who wants to know?" he asked sullenly.

"My friends and I, sir." Hook sighed.

"I lost it in Iraq," he said. The whole class (minus Peter) all gasped.

"You were a soldier?" a boy said.

"Yes," Hook replied sadly. "I was captain of my unit and we were sent out on a mission to rescue some men from a neighboring squad. On our way there, we met resistance and worst came to worst and I got in a knife fight after having lost my gun a few minutes prior. My opponent cut my wrist and it later got infected and had to be amputated. Now, I ask that there be no more questions on the matter." All of the children in the room nodded. Peter, however, knew that this was a boatload of crap, so he just stood there with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. He had to admit, that this was a good story, but even if he didn't know how the story really went, he still wouldn't have believed it.

"Now, all of you turn to your neighbor, and go over the steps of a flesh. If that incompetent man who taught here before me hasn't taught you that, then he really was more of an idjit then I made him out to be." Abby seemed to have other ideas, because as soon as class started, she moved over to Peter's side.

"What was that all about?" she asked. Peter looked away.

"You heard what he said," he replied. "Nothing more to it." Abby frowned.

"That is bullshit Peter," she said. "You expect me to believe those lies? How stupid do you think I am?" Peter's anger suddenly came raging down on him, and he turned to her furiously.

"That's the truth, and if you don't want to hear it, then just forget about it!" he nearly shouted, drawing everyone's attention, including Hook, who was near the center of the room, watching everyone practice. The whole room fell silent. Abby looked hurt.

"Fine," she said quietly. She turned back to her opponent and continued striking, her blows getting harder and harder as she continued.

As she turned away, Peter regretted what he said. He hadn't meant to shout. Hook had just gotten him so angry, and then she was accusing him, and the whole class was looking at him like he was some sort of freak, and he just lost control.

As the class got back into their sparring routines, he tried to talk to Abby.

"Abby," he began as they were switching partners. She extended her arm, sword pointing at his chest.

"I don't want to hear it Peter," she said angrily. Peter huffed and turned away, his pride getting the better of him.

"Fine," he nearly spat, and walked away, instantly regretting it. But what was he supposed to do if she was going to be so stubborn about it? He decided he'd try again later to explain.

Throughout the rest of the day, Hook took every opportunity to humiliate him, ridiculing things from his technique to his stance. He never tried to duel him one on one, however. Peter was thankful. Although he and Hook were evenly matched, he was not in the mood to fight him. He was still furious at his enemy's sudden appearance and sullen about Abby ignoring him, so he didn't really want to find out how those two moods would contribute to his fighting skills against a worthy opponent, and he didn't want to give Hook more reason to embarrass him.

Finally, it was time to go. Abby just packed up and left without him. That annoyed Peter, but he'd talk to her eventually. They were in the same house; she couldn't ignore him for long.

As he was packing up, he heard someone call his name.

"Peter, come here for a moment." Peter grimaced at the voice, but he zipped up his bag and walked over to Hook anyways. He was waiting for him in his office.

"I expect no more outbursts from you like the one today," Hook criticized. Peter gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, Hook?" Peter asked angrily. Hook smiled.

"Now, now, Peter," he mocked. "You mustn't use your old nickname for me here. Not unless you want the whole world to know who you are."

"I'll call you whatever I want."

"Very well child, but only in private. Unless you want consequences," he snarled.

"What could you possibly do to me?" Peter replied. Hook laughed.

"Do you honestly doubt my abilities?" he asked. "You think that the girl is the only thing I have over your head? I know of a few boys who would beg to differ." Peter's eyes went wide with terror.

"Where are my friends?" he asked slowly, and angrily. Hook sneered at Peter's reaction.

"Oh, don't worry," he said. "My men are taking good care of them." At that last statement, Peter leapt over the desk and grabbed Hook's collar.

"Let them go, you bastard!" he shouted. Hook laughed.

"Language, Pan," he mocked. "You are in the company of an elder. Or are you not aware of the customs they have here?"

"You think I bloody care!" he snapped.

"No," Hook said thoughtfully. "You always were an arrogant, disrespectful child. But as for your situation with the boys, there is nothing you can do about it. You're trapped here. And defenseless I might add. You can neither fly nor fight here." Peter looked down at the hated man's face.

"Who says I can't fight?" he says threateningly.

"Not without giving away your identity and getting yourself arrested. This is no Neverland, Peter. There are authorities here, or don't you remember? You did have to dodge them your entire true childhood."

"I can handle the cops," he snarled. Hook snorted.

"I doubt it," he said. "You could handle the old cops. These new ones are a lot more efficient than the ones you and I are used to. We're out of our time, boy."

"That doesn't matter."

"Oh I think it does. And however much I want you arrested, I need your hide alive and out of prison for what I have planned." Peter let go of his shirt collar.

"And what is that?" he asked. Hook shook his head and wagged his finger, like he was scolding a naughty child.

"What fun would it be if I told you?" he asked mockingly. "No, I think I'll keep it to myself, thanks. But you're free to go now."

Peter knew he wasn't going to get anything out of him now. So he huffed and walked to the door. As he reached for the handle, he was stopped by Hook's voice.

"And not a word of any of this to anyone, boy," he threatened. "Or there will be consequences." Peter's eyes narrowed, but he opened the door and walked out.

'_And your friends will suffer all the more for it," _Hook thought with a laugh. He opened his drawer and took out a small device. He pushed a button and spoke into the grates.

"Are the boys cooperating?" he asked.

"Very well, yes," a voice replied. "We should have them ready in the morning."

"Very good, Starky," he said. "Make sure that they are ready."

"Yes cap'n." Hook hung up. His plan for revenge was going exactly as planned.

**A/N: so sorry for the late update and such. I feel so evil. I finally had the motivation to work on this on the plane to Huston, Texas. So hi Texans! I won't be here long, though. In fact, I might not be able to post this until I get to Ohio. Going to see family and all that. Stupid airport security websites. I am sitting on the ground in an airport right now charging my moments ago dead computer. I was on a typing frenzy just a few minutes ago, and couldn't be bothered with finding an outlet. I blame my fans. Which by the way, I thank you for your enormous support. Every time I got a review, I wrote a little bit more, trying to get past my writers block. Hope you liked Hooks scene. I know I did. But it was hard to start. And I tried to make Peter as childish as possible, because that's what he is, but it was a little difficult in this chapter. Oh well. I'll get him in character later. I wonder what Hooks plan is with the lost boys? Oh and thanks to everyone who sent me a character in my syoc forms. I'll try to use them all. **

**I actually took a fencing class for the first time since sixth grade! It was foil, so it was different, but I still liked it. so updated info!**

**Like I said in the earlier note, my interests are changing. I am now very into avatar, so any of you who are fans of that, you all get virtual cookies and more stories from me. I am very toph and lin circulated, but I can branch out if you want me to. And then there is the norm like merlin and harry potter. I haven't checked in with thief lord lately. I wonder how that forum is? I actually haven't read any new peter pan stories either. Oh well. **

**Review? I know I've been a bad author and haven't done regular updates, well, ever, but I do love support and feedback. Like I said, every review I cherish and I try to write a little bit to get out of my block, whether it's a word, a sentence, a paragraph or a page. And we're almost to fifty reviews people! I am still trying to figure out how to remove my responses to anonymous authors on that page, so any suggestions would be most welcome. And feel free to PM me about my story, your stories, favorite fandoms, and favorite ice cream flavors! Ta ta for now!**


	9. Chapter 8 A Cruel Suprise

Abby's POV

"Alright Peter, spill it," said Abby. "I know that you were lying through your teeth back there. I'm sorry for getting angry, but I don't like it when people lie to me, and then insult my intelligence in public." The two of them were sitting on the roof at Abby's request. Peter obliged, Abby guessed, because he wanted to apologize. She knew he didn't want to tell her the truth, but tonight, she was going to force it out of him whether he wanted it or not.

"I wasn't insulting your intelligence in public," Peter said. "But I can't tell you the truth." Abby crossed her arms angrily.

"And why not?" she asked. "Don't you trust me?" Peter waved his arms and shook his head.

"No, no," he said. "It's not like that. It's not that I don't trust you, it's that there is too much at stake if I tell you." Abby's eyes widened.

"He threatened you, didn't he?" she asked. "What exactly does he have over you? What did he do to you to make you hate him so much?" Peter shook his head.

"I can't tell you that," he said.

"So he did threaten you!" Abby said loudly, forgetting where they were. Peter had to silence her with a hand over her mouth.

"Shh!" he whispered loudly. "Not so loud!"

"But I'm right, aren't I," she said softly after Peter removed his hand. Peter turned away.

"It doesn't matter anyways," he said. "I wouldn't be able to tell you either way." Abby shook her head.

"What on earth does he have on you?" she asked. "What is it?" When Peter didn't say anything, she looked down sadly. "Is it really that bad?"

"Bad enough so that I won't tell you!" Peter exclaimed.

"Peter," she said comfortingly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I just want to help-" Peter looked up at her angrily.

"What can you do to help?" he asked loudly. "Tell me, what exactly could you do?" Now it was Abby's turn to shush Peter.

"Be quiet!" she whispered loudly with her hand over his mouth. "Do you want the neighbors to hear us?" He just turned away from her touch.

"Well?" he asked, not looking at her.

"I don't know, Peter," she said sadly. "But that's because I don't know what the problem is."

"And it needs to stay that way," he said. "Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Abby looked at him, annoyed.

"Try me," she said. Peter sighed.

"Look, it's late and I'm tired. Can't we talk about this later?" he asked. Abby glared at him.

"Fine, but if you think I'm letting this drop, you are dead wrong," she said. Peter shrugged and slid down the roof and into his room.

Abby sighed and put her head in her hands. _What isn't he telling me?_ She thought. But Peter was right. It was late, and she was tired. Maybe if she just thought about it in the morning…

Just then, she heard music coming from Peter's room. He was playing the pan flute again. He really liked that instrument and he was really good at it. But now as he played, he sounded so sad. Or maybe it was homesick?

She had never really asked him if he missed where he came from, but that was probably just because he wouldn't tell her where it was. Ugh! Why wouldn't he tell her! Who was she going to tell? Jimmy? What was up with the two of them anyway? Peter really hated their fencing teacher. It was obvious that Jimmy had done something to Peter, or else he wouldn't have reacted that way, but as to what it was, it was either too painful a memory to share with her, or did he just not want her to know?

Abby shook her head. Too many questions for one night. Peter had stopped playing and it was starting to get really cold. She slid down the roof and crawled through her window onto her bed. School started tomorrow, and after a two week break, it was going to take a few days to get back in the swing of things. Plus, she had tons of things to tell her friends. She felt sorry that she hadn't called or texted them at all, but she did have a lot going on and she was sure that they would understand.

She heard music coming from the other room; Peter had started playing again. This time, it was a soft, quiet song. She could feel her eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and she lay her head down on her pillow as Peter's music drifted her off to sleep.

. . .

"Wait, so let me get this straight," Jaime began. "You saved that guys' life, and now he's come to live with you? Where are his parents?"

"And more importantly," Kylee brought up. "Is he cute?"

The whole lunch table busted out laughing while Abby's face and neck turned a bright crimson.

"He won't tell us anything about him, and ya, I guess he's kinda cute…" Abby replied sheepishly. Kylee smiled deviously.

"And why haven't I met this mysterious hottie?" she asked. "What's he like?"

Abby took a deep breath and regained a small amount of composure. "I am choosing not to reply to either of those questions." Kylee gave a false astonished look and put a hand up to her mouth mockingly.

"And why ever not?" then she smirked. "Unless you want him all to yourself…" Abby shook her head quickly.

"Can we just move on from that topic, please?" she begged, which caused the table to fall into peals of laughter once more.

When the laughter finally stopped, (and Abby finished debating with herself on why she had such weird friends) Jaime wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep breath.

"But why is he living with you?" she asked. "Aren't there foster homes that can take care of him?"

"My mom registered us as his emergency contact," Abby explained. "He's just living with us until we can find his parents."

Their other friend, Lucy, shook her head. "This is just so weird," she began. "And so cool at the same time! I mean, you saved someone's life! What could be cooler than that?"

"Three guys and a hot tub," Kylee muttered, causing everyone to start laughing again. It felt good to actually laugh with her friends again, after two weeks filled with nothing but confusion and questions. She looked around at all of them, thinking of everything they'd done together.

There were eight of them total, including Abby. Sitting on either sides of her were Kylee and Lucy, the two boy crazies of the group, but they were also incredibly interesting to talk to and loved to tease her. Lucy had straight, medium length blond hair that she loved to play with and a great sense of fashion. She also had a fascination with peace signs. Kylee was half Asian and incredibly beautiful with her dark brown hair and eyes.

Sitting next to Lucy was Jaime, who had dark brown hair and always had some interesting tidbit to add to the conversation and who, like Abby, was very opinionated, but they all loved her. Next to Jaime was Marie, whose love of anything fun was infectious. She had straight wavy blond hair and was obsessed with all things musical.

Sitting next to Marie was Halley, who was equally as fun, with a tad bit of insanity, and had the voice of an angel. She also had a strange obsession of zombie movies and My Little Pony. She had short, brown hair, and that combined with her thin face made her look a bit like a pixie. Next to Halley was the other singing goddess, Selena. She and Halley were best friends who shared everything. If Halley was the pixie, Selena was the fairy. She had very soft features and a soft voice, but those were all illusions. On the inside she was incredibly crazy.

The final person in their large friend group, Rae, sat next to her best friend Kylee, and was incredibly crazy and fun. She and Kylee fought constantly, but that was mainly because they had such similar personalities. But at the end of the day, they were all best friends, and would be there for every person in their group. Abby felt incredibly grateful to have such devoted and loving friends.

Finally, the laughter stopped. Rae inhaled deeply to steady her breathing and then spoke.

"But seriously Abby, what does he look like?" Abby sighed and began describing his appearance while Rea's eyes slowly started getting wider and wider as her intrigued expression turned into one of astonishment. Abby finally stopped because of the look on her face.

"What is it?" she asked. Rea cleared her throat.

"So, the guy that you just described is standing over there with your mom talking to the principal," she said, pointing over Abby's left shoulder. She whipped her head around and sure enough, there was Peter, standing near the door with her mother, who was talking to the principal. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world right now. He didn't look like he'd seen her, but it wouldn't be long; not with her blond, curly afro.

"What's he doing here?" she asked no one in particular. Then, without saying anything, she stood up and walked over to them. As soon as Peter saw her, his face lit up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Your mom is trying to get me to "think" about going to school. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not going. I don't care what she or anyone else says."

"Where did you go to school before?" Abby asked. Peter looked at her, puzzled.

"Nowhere," he replied. Her jaw almost dropped.

"You mean you never went to school?" she said. "Ever?" Peter shook his head.

"I learned everything I needed to on my own. Plus, school is for people who care about their futures."

"Don't you care?" Peter shook his head again.

"No. I don't have a future."

Abby was already confused, but this comment made absolutely no sense. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she didn't say anything at all. It was at this time that her mother finally noticed that she was there.

"Abby!" she exclaimed. "When did you get here?"

"Just a couple of minutes ago," she replied. They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds until her mother spoke.

"How's your day been?" she asked.

"Fine," she answered.

"Great," said Bryn. They stood staring at each other for several more seconds, until Bryn finally said, "Well, it's great to see you during the day, honey, but Peter and I have to go run some errands. Peter, why don't you go out to the car? I'll be with you in a second." Peter rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

As soon as mother and daughter were alone, Bryn whispered, "I need your help. He needs to go to school, but he is blatantly refusing. I am running out of options. I need you to talk to him."

"Wasn't it you who was saying that he didn't have to go to school if he didn't want to? Not going back on your word, are you mom?"

Bryn sighed. "It doesn't look like he has any relatives that the system knows about. I thought he would have found someone by now when I said that. It looks like he's going to be staying with us for awhile. He needs an education. He doesn't think he has a future, but he's fooling himself."

"That's exactly what he said to me!" Abby exclaimed.

"It's not like he doesn't have one," Bryn explained. "He just doesn't want one. I think he feels like going to school will force him to grow up." She paused and ran her hands through her hair, like she did when she was frustrated. "Will you help me?" she asked finally.

"I don't know if I can," Abby said. "But I can try."

"That's all I ask," said her mother. "Alright sweetheart, I have to go. Peter is probably wondering what is taking so long." She gave her daughter a quick hug and whispered, "_I love you_," into her blonde, curly locks

"_I love you too, mom,"_ Abby replied.

. . .

Unbeknownst to them, Peter never really did go outside. He hid behind the door and listened to their entire conversation.

What was so important about school? Couldn't they see that he did not want to go? Why were they trying to force him? He wouldn't go, no matter what anyone said. He had to find a way to get home, and soon. His friends might be in trouble.

Just then, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to find a hookless Hook leaning against a classroom door, smiling malevolently at him, his blue eyes cold with hatred. Peter tensed, and glared back at him. Hook had chosen his spot well, this was a deserted hallway; no one was coming in or out, keeping any conversation private.

"What do you want, Hook?" he asked heatedly.

"To make sure you are finding your new life here to your liking," Hook replied. "And to see if you have noticed my little secret."

Peter knew that he was taunting him, but he couldn't help himself. "What secret?"

Hook smirked. He knew he had Peter in his trap. "You are honestly telling me that the brilliant Pan hasn't noticed who is sitting in this lunchroom? Trust me, you would be well advised to look."

Again, Peter knew he was being baited, but he leaned around the corner anyway. He scoped the entire room. The only people he knew were Abby and her mom. They were hugging. His breath caught in his throat. Hook peered over to see what he was looking at.

"Oh yes," he said. "A mother. Something you have always longed for, am I correct?"

Peter shook his head furiously. "I don't want a mother!" he snapped.

"Oh, but I think you do. Tell me, what do you feel when you look at her? Is it hurt? Is it pain? Is it longing? That desperate, childish need for affection? Tell me Peter."

At first, Peter thought he was talking about Bryn, but then he realized that Hook was talking about Abby. He blushed furiously and shook his head, trying to shake off that feeling of weakness.

"I have no feelings," he said quietly.

"Your face tells me otherwise. But no matter. You still haven't found them yet." Peter's eyes scanned the room once more. His eyes fell on a table of all boys. His breath caught in his throat and he clutched the door for support. Those boys were his boys. His lost boys.

His hands clenched and his heart raced. He could see them all clearly. They were the boys after the ordinal that left with Wendy all those years ago. Caleb and West came to him first. They remembered their real names, so Peter didn't have to give them real names. Laces came next. He didn't remember his name, so Peter gave him the first name he could think of. Mittens and Socks came years later, at the same time, but not on the same part of the island. Peter and the others assumed that they were twins, but he couldn't be sure. They did look a lot like twins.

Caleb was poking the younger kids, his wild blond hair was sticking out all over the place. West was wolfing down his food, as usual, his red hair flat for once, and his blue eyes were concentrating on his plate. Laces was picking at his food, his light brown hair obscuring his face, his blue eyes watching the other kids argue. Mittens and Socks were stuck in a poking contest with Caleb, their almost identical appearances making it difficult to tell them apart unless you knew them. Mittens had green eyes and Socks had brown, but they both had black hair were both covered in freckles, which was odd, unless you lived in Neverland. But what was even weirder was that none of them seemed to care that they were here. They were oblivious to the fact that they were in the world where adults roamed and kids were restrained. They were behaving as though this was normal.

"So you see them now, Pan?" Hook sneered. He was now just behind Peter. "Yes they are really there, all six of your pitiful lost boys." He leaned down to whisper in Peter's ear. "But you know what the best part of all of this is? The best part is that they don't remember anything about who they are. They think that I'm their father, and they don't remember anything about you."

Peter's face turned white as a sheet. His fists clenched even tighter and his entire body tensed. Hook wanted to get to him, this was how. Hook had brought his worst nightmare to life.

"Liar," he whispered. He could feel the angry hot tears stinging at the backs of his eyes.

"No, Pan, I guarantee you that I am telling the absolute truth. I told you I'd make your life a living hell, and here it is in the flesh. Your friends don't know who you are, they don't care about you. You are a stranger to them. It's amazing what a little fairy dust can do. It has powers far beyond flight, child."

"No," Peter whispered. His face contorted with rage. "You're lying!" he shouted, and turned around and punched Hook in the face.

Hook was a little taken aback, but recovered quickly and grabbed Peter's arm, slowly twisting it, causing Peter to fall to his knees in pain.

"You're out of your element, boy," Hook jeered. But with grunt of determination, Peter punched Hooks arm that was holding him, causing Hook to release him. As soon as he did, Peter swept out with his foot, catching Hooks knee, tripping him. He landed flat on his back.

"But you're still an old man," Peter reminded him. "And a codfish. Now…" Peter put his foot on Hooks chest and leaned down. "Bring them back." Hook laughed.

"You'll have to kill me."

"You know I'd happily do that, but first bring them back!"

"Not on your life, boy." Hooks eyes flashed red at the thought of Peter, dead.

Just then, Peter heard someone walking down the hallway. He thought it was deserted! He quickly stood up.

"You got lucky this time, codfish. But you will bring them back!" And then he shot out of the hallway and into the cafeteria. He didn't see Abby or Bryn, but he didn't think about that. He ran out of the building to the car, but not before casting one last look at his friends, his lost boys, who were still sitting around the table, oblivious to who they are.

He made it to the parking lot with no one stopping him and leapt into the car. As slammed the door and took a breath, Bryn leaned over the side of her seat and asked "Where were you Peter?"

Peter jumped so high he hit his head on the car roof. He didn't see her!

"Um, I got lost," was his excuse. Bryn rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything else on the topic of his tardiness.

"What did you think of the school?" Bryn asked as she started the car. Peter shrugged, but then an idea came to him.

"I'll go," he said. Bryn looked surprised.

"You will? I thought you were dead set against it? What made you change your mind?"

"I guess I just realized that it wasn't so bad."

The rest of the car ride home was silent, with Bryn in the front smiling, and Peter in the back thinking. Maybe he could make them remember, if he just talked to them. Maybe just seeing him would make them remember. And the next time he saw Hook, he would force a solution out of him at all costs. They had to go home.

**A/N: I cannot tell you how glad I am to have this chapter done. Sorry for the late update. I guess you should just come to expect that it will take me 1-2 months to get it done. **

**Anyway, how'd you all like this turn of events? Thanks to all of those who submitted a character! I used them, but there were only two. See if you can recognize which ones. **

**As soon as I got over my block, this was a really fun chapter to write. For some reason, I just love writing for hook. I don't know why, but he presents an easy way for me to write some enjoyable climactic stuff. I love his attitude. It's just hard to write for peter during those scenes.**

**Happy Veterans Day! On the 11****th**** hour of the 11****th**** day of the 11****th**** month, the guns fell silent. That's tomorrow (or I guess its 12 hours from now). Thank you to all of those who have served our country (America for those foreign readers). Your sacrifice means the world to us. **

**Review! Love you guys. Hope you liked this chapter!**

**Note; this is the edited version of the chapter I posted last night. I put it up to quickly and now I went back over it and fixed some mistakes. Hope this version is better! Review please! I love them!**


	10. Chapter 9 an Unexpected Visitor

Peter

School and the boys. Those were the only two things on his mind as he lay awake the night before he would have to go to that cursed place. It was almost midnight, and judging by what Abby had told him a few hours before, he would have to get to sleep or hate the world in the morning. He didn't know how he could hate the world any more than he did now, but he didn't want to test her theory. So he lay staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim him. However, he wasn't even feeling the beginnings of it. So he continued to lie there, thinking.

He was doing this for the boys. That was his purpose at the moment; protect the boys, like he's always done, and then focus on getting them all home. He had never hated anyone more then he hated Hook, that was certain. Well, maybe his mother. But she had at least given him life. Without her, he wouldn't be here. But she had still kept him out when he was still very small and needed a mother. He did not remember her before that incident, but that was because it was probably over a hundred years ago.

He supposed he should thank her, because if she had never kept him out, he wouldn't be who he was. He wouldn't be the legendary Peter Pan; creator of dreams and keeper of imagination. At least that's what the parents told in their stories. Peter actually couldn't remember the last time he heard a story about himself when he listened at the window. Now, they were about other things. Some were equally as interesting, others were not. Once, he heard one mother telling her child about a special wardrobe that took you to a place, that wasn't Neverland, but some other magical place. There was a lion, a witch and a beaver in it. There was also a different mother talking about a wizard school. That wasn't as interesting as the lion story. **(Ok, I love harry potter more than anything, but I don't think peter would get it)** There were no more Pirates, no more Indians, and very few fairies.

He sighed and rolled over. Sleep was essential if school tomorrow was as gruesome as Abby said it was. He shivered. There was no way he was ready for this. But he had to keep telling himself, he was doing this for the boys; he was doing this for the boys. He had to get them back. Finally feeling the beginnings of sleep come, he settled into its warm and comforting embrace…

Just then, there was a thud on his window. Peter groaned, thinking that it was either Abby or a bird. He wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

Standing on the sill was a tiny little man, no, a fairy. He looked a bit disoriented. His skin was a dull purplish color, but was not glowing like it was supposed to. He was wearing the traditional fairy attire of leaves and vines, but he was also short. Well, he was short compared to how tall fairies were supposed to be. Where normal fairies stood at about four inches, he stood at around two and a half, although his wings and ears quite large and pointed. He didn't look like a young fairy; on the contrary, it looked like he had seen many a century. He wasn't old exactly (well, to Peter he looked old) more like forty in fairy centuries. His black hair was beginning to grey at the roots, and he had a few wrinkles. He looked very kind and wise. But at the moment, his deep blue eyes were wide and terrified, and he looked like he was about to pass out as he swayed back and forth.

Peter quickly opened the window to catch the little fairy as he fell. He landed in his hands with a soft "plump." However, there was no release of fairy dust that occurred whenever a fairy was jarred or even moved. Instead, when he fell, he just landed, very awkwardly in Peter's cupped hands. For several seconds, he didn't stir. Peter began to fear that he was dead. So he bent down and whispered in his ear, "I do believe in fairies, I do believe in fairies!" He moved his head back and saw the fairy stir. He breathed a sigh of relief, at least until he saw a scowl came across the little fairies face.

"I'm tired, not dead, you idiot," the fairy said harshly, not opening his eyes. "And could you keep it down? I have a terrible headache." Peter frowned and placed him on the blanket gently. The fairy stayed exactly where he had put him.

"I was whispering," he said quietly. He bent down to take a closer look. "You're a midget fairy, aren't you?" he said, mostly to himself. With that comment, the purple fairy huffed and sat up slowly.

"I prefer that you refer to it as fairy-folk dwarfism," he exclaimed, a little haughtily. Peter had to stifle a laugh.

"Fairies can have dwarfism?" he chuckled. "So what is that, like a midget, midget? You're like a tiny, tiny-person!" The dwarfed fairy stood up on the blanket and put his hands on his hips.

"It's called fairy-folk dwarfism!" he corrected, angry now.

"It doesn't matter what it's called, you're still abnormally small even for a fairy!" Peter taunted. The fairy looked incredibly cross and turned around with his back to Peter.

"And what makes you so high and mighty, huh? Just because you're tall doesn't mean that you're better than the rest of us!" he gave Peter an inquiring look. "Who are you anyway?"

Peter leaned back on the bed and puffed out his chest a little bit. "It is I, the great Peter Pan of Neverland!" he exclaimed. "You are in the presence of near royalty." Peter was expecting some reaction from the little fairy, but definitely not what he did next. The fairy went from mauve to red in almost an instant, but instead of flying up to express his embarrassment, he ran to Peter's leg and began kicking and hitting it.

"It's your fault!" he shouted. "It's your fault! It's your fault that Neverland is dying and that Tinkerbelle is dead! It's all your fault!" Peter was taken aback, but he gently picked up the flailing fairy by the arms and held him up to his face.

"What do you mean it's my fault? Neverland is dying? How? What happened? What did I do?" he exclaimed. Slowly the now red fairy calmed down and resorted back to his original shade.

"You don't know? You don't know that every time you leave, Neverland turns cold and everything starts to die? All of the plants and animals are dying and to make matters worse, the pirates have taken over everything. At first, they were led by that gruesome Captain," he growled. "But then he disappeared and we thought everything was going to be ok. But the pirates continued to wreak havoc on the entire island. The mermaids have fled. The Indians are hiding. Not even the croc can stop them."

Peter's eyes went wide. "How, no, why does this happen? Why is it that every time I leave this happens to Neverland?" He put the fairy back down again to wipe his eyes, which were starting to tear up. The fairy looked at him sympathetically and sighed.

"Every time you leave, there is an imbalance of good and evil. Evil makes everything cold and dead, and good makes everything warm and nice. On a magical island like Neverland, the ideals show up physically in the landscape. Then, when the lost boys disappeared and the mermaids fled, it was just us and the Indians, and immense force that are the pirates. We had no way to defeat them. It was always you boys combined with the Indians and the croc that kept them at bay. But when you left, they slew the crocodile and then it was just the Indians. The pirates are too great a force to be stopped by them. They forced us to give up all of our fairy dust." Peter looked at him curiously.

"Well, then how did you get here?" The fairy began shifting nervously.

"I used my special reserve to get myself away from that place. It's gone now. That's why I fell out of the sky." It was then that Peter noticed the little pack he had on his back. The fairy continued.

"Neverland is not the same place you knew. It is barren and desolate. Very little life can be found, accept for the pirates, but even they are dwindling. That's why I left."

Peter held his head in his hands. "What happens if I go back? Will it return to normal?" The fairy shrugged.

"I don't know, Peter," he said. "There is so much evil there that I am not sure if even you can reverse the effects. It would have to be you, plus the other boys and the mermaids. And the Indians would have to return as well." His little fists suddenly clenched tightly. "Why did you have to up and leave like that?! It's because of you that Neverland has gotten that bad!" Peter looked ashamed.

"It was because of Tinkerbelle," he said. He looked like he was about to cry again. "She died and then I had no one. I was so angry that I just flew until I got stranded here. Now I can't fly and Neverland is dying and it's all my fault!" he sobbed. But his eyes got a dark look to them. "No, it's not my fault. It's Hook's fault. He's the one who killed her! It's Hook's fault! This is what he wanted. His 'Master Plan.'" The fairy nodded his head in agreement.

"I guess you're right," he said. He looked up at Peter sadly. "I'm sorry for becoming mad at you. It wasn't your fault, as you said. I just let my emotions take over. Can you forgive me?" Peter stared at him for a moment, and then began laughing. He laughed and laughed until he was no longer crying from anger and sadness, but from pure amusement. He finally managed to choke out a statement between giggles.

"That was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard! But yes, I suppose I can forgive you," he said. Then he calmed down. "And I'm sorry for teasing you about your height. But you have to admit, that it was pretty funny!" Peter fell into peals of laughter again.

The fairy put his hands firmly on his hips and glared at Peter, who noticed and coughed to calm himself down.

"Right," he coughed. "Sorry about that. It's just too easy to tease fairies. They take it way to seriously." He paused a moment. The fairy did not stop glaring. Peter began to feel uncomfortable, but he said, "Can you forgive me? Not just for the jokes, but for leaving?"

The fairy looked stern for another moment, but finally nodded and smiled. Peter smiled back.

"I believe I have not properly introduced myself. My name is Quietus Toll, mortician." He did a little bow. Peter grimaced.

"Sounds gruesome," he said. Then he explained; "you know, with the dead bodies and all." Quietus shook his head.

"It's actually not that bad. I am lucky to not have that much to do. Not very many fairies often die. We'll occasionally get one or two, but it's mostly animals and such."

"I suppose that's not so bad," Peter said. "Hey, where's your fairy dust? You're not glowing."

"As I told you, the pirates took it all. I was using my reserved fairy dust I kept for an occasion such as this," Quietus explained.

"You thought this would happen?" Peter asked. Quietus looked at him oddly.

"Did I think that you would leave and that the pirates would take all of our dust and that Neverland would become a barren wasteland? No, the thought never occurred to me. But I kept some just in case of an emergency. It is always good to do so."

"So you can't fly?" Peter asked.

"No," he said sadly. He looked Peter up and down.

"Why can't you fly?" he asked. Peter shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.

"I wish you could tell me. I've got no clue." Quietus thought for a minute.

"Well, maybe we could figure it out. What was happening when you lost your ability?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Peter said.

"What I mean is, what were you doing and what was going on around you when you stopped being able to fly," he explained. Peter nodded thought hard.

"Well," he began. "I was flying through a storm and I couldn't see. I was furious and sad. There was lightning, and then something hit me in the back." He turned around and lifted the back of his nightshirt so that Quietus could see. "And then I blacked out. And the next thing I knew, Abby was there and I was lying on a beach and-"

"Wait, wait," Quietus said. "Who's Abby?"

"She's the girl who saved me. I am at her house right now with her mom and her sister. I am staying here until I can find a way to get home." Quietus nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"Anyway they took me to a building where they poked me with needles and gave me," he shuddered, "medicine."

"Maybe that's it!" Quietus exclaimed. "Maybe the medicine is it!" But Peter shook his head.

"I couldn't fly even before they gave me medicine," he told him. Quietus looked disappointed but said nothing.

"But that's it. I can't fly anymore and now I'm stuck here."

Quietus thought for a very long time. Peter began to think that he had fallen asleep, because his eyes were closed. But just when he was about to prod him or ask him if he was awake, the little fairy's eyes flew open.

"What about when you blacked out?" he asked. "Something hit you in the back and you blacked out. What if that thing was a lightning bolt?"

"Well what does that mean?" Peter asked.

"It means that we might have a solution to your problem. I am a little versed in the sciences, as well as the poetic arts-" Peter interrupted him with his laughter.

"You're a poet?" he said. Quietus looked offended, but he nodded.

"Yes," he said. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Peter said. "It's just that poets are normally girls who have nothing to do, so they just write down jumbled stuff that's in their head. Normally the romantic ones too." Quietus' little eyebrows furrowed together as he placed his little hands on his hips again.

"Well I never," he huffed. "You know, poetry can be stories as well. Why, there are several stories written in nothing but poetry. The Odyssey is but one example. I was told that you highly enjoyed stories."

Peter stopped laughing after that.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I am a learned fairy, and have a little knowledge about lightning bolts. Did you know that they contain fairy dust?" Peter shook his head. "Well, they do. That's what makes them light up. The energy splits the dust out of an atom. It's all incredibly fascinating-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it is, but can we get to the part where I fly again, please?" Quietus looked irritated, but he managed to continue.

"I was getting to that. Now, a split fairy atom disrupts the all of the molecules in close proximity to it because it draws in any surrounding fairy dust, if there is any. But, if there isn't, then the lightning bolt injects fairy dust into the atmosphere, or molecules surrounding it. That's why it hurts to be hit by lightning, because if that vast quantity of fairy dust has entered your system that quickly, then it can have profound effects. Most of the time, it kills people. If it were just energy, it wouldn't be so bad. But because it's dust, people who can't endure it will die. But you are one of those rare people who can withstand a large amount of the dust at one time. That's why you didn't die. That and you already had fairy dust in your system. So if we can get you in that same situation, when you get hit by lightning, instead of taking the fairy dust out of your system, the lightning will inject it into you. And then, kaboom, you will fly again! Literally, there will be a big kaboom."

Peter did not understand hardly any of what Quietus Toll just said, but the ending stuck with him. "So, if I get hit by lightning, in the same spot on my back, then I will be able to fly again?" he asked slowly. Quietus nodded enthusiastically.

"Precisely!" he exclaimed. "And then Neverland will hopefully be back to normal." Peter frowned.

"Accept that there's one problem," he said uneasily.

"And what might that be?" asked Quietus.

"The lost boys are here and they've forgotten everything," Peter explained. "Hook removed their memories with fairy dust. He said he won't bring them back."

"Ooh," Quietus said worriedly. "That is a problem." And he sat down to think about it with his eyes closed. He thought once more for a long time. Finally his eyes opened again. He reached for his pack and produced a tiny little book made of leaves. But to him it would be enormous.

"I suppose I could do some reading about it," he said, showing the book to Peter. "This as almost everything about fairy dust anyone could hope to find. I was hoping to do some mining while I was here, so I brought this along. But it can hopefully help us now."

Peter nodded, relieved. Maybe now he wouldn't have to go to school. But he knew that he still had to. He had to try his own methods to bring the boys back in case the book didn't work out. He owed it to all of his friends.

Peter's eyes started suddenly to get very heavy. It was then that he realized how exhausted he was. He looked at the clock. It was 2:30 in the morning. Well, he obviously got no sleep tonight.

"Hey, Quietus?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Can we go to bed now? You can sleep on this pillow for now. I can make a bed for you tomorrow." Quietus chuckled.

"I suppose so," he said softly. As Peter nodded and laid his head down, Quietus put his book away and crawled on the pillow Peter indicated, curled up and fell asleep to Peter's gentle snores.

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><p><strong>AN: Holy cow. I started and finished this in one night. I am so proud of myself. I absolutely loved, loved, loved! writing this chapter. My favorite one, hands down. Don't expect the next one to come so quickly though. Peter's first day of school is going to take some time to finish, because I have a lot I need to include. **

**I love Quietus. Thank you to Senshi Sun for submitting him. And thank you Senshi Sun for being a wonderful and helpful reviewer that makes my work so much better. **

**Um, I don't really have much to say that is different from the last chapter, so Review! Thanks! And this is my fastest update since the first 2 chapters! Just thought I'd let you know **


	11. Chapter 10 School, pt 1

**Disclaimer: haven't done one of these in awhile. I don't own peter pan. That pleasure belongs to whatever hospital J.M. Barrie gave the story to. Somewhere in Churchill I think…**

All night last night, she could hear Peter moving and in some weird cases, talking. It sounded like he was talking to someone, and he laughed occasionally whatever he was hearing. Finally at about 2:30, he went to sleep. He was going to have a rough day she thought as she got out of bed to get ready for school. And unfortunately, it was her job to wake him up, or else she knew he wouldn't do it.

She walked quietly to his room and knocked on the door. No answer. She opened the door and peered in. Peter was, of course, sleeping soundly on his bed. His window was open and the room was extremely cold. She saw something moving on the window sill. At first she thought it was a spider, and so she recoiled. But as she looked closer, she saw that it couldn't be a spider, it was too big. As she stepped inside, the light from the hallway revealed something else and her eyes went wide. She quickly ran out of the room and shut the door again and inhaled deeply.

'I'm hallucinating,' she told herself. 'There wasn't anything there. I'm going to open this door and there won't be anything there.' So she took a deep breath and opened the door just enough to stick her head inside. And sure enough, when she looked in, there was nothing. She let out a breath that she didn't realize that she was holding. She didn't know what she was thinking; she must be crazy. Because for a second there, she could have sworn that a tiny little person with wings was sitting on the sill and he turned his head to look at her. But that was impossible. Fairies didn't exist.

. . .

Quietus liked to stargaze. It was a favorite pastime of his. So, when Peter went to sleep, he managed to climb up on the window sill and watch the faded stars with his little notebook in his lap, recording the constellations and writing about them. He had written many poems about the stars in Neverland, which were very different from the ones here. He liked the stars in Neverland much better; accept that now the smoke, ash and mist clouds covered them. But here, the lights in the street never went out, so it was nearly impossible to make them out. But he, an experienced stargazer, was able to tell where they were. There seemed to be a lot of weird moving stars, and they flashed different colors as they slowly moved across the sky. He assumed that they weren't really stars, but something else entirely; however he had no idea what they were.

Suddenly, during the midst of his watch, the door opened across the room as the head of a girl peeped in. She looked around the room and her gaze fixed on Peter. Then, to Quietus's horror, she looked up at him and stared for several seconds, and then rushed out of the room as fast as she could, as if he were some disease that she was afraid to catch.

Quietus took this time to jump down on Peter's bed and quickly maneuver himself under his pillow. He didn't think that this girl was supposed to see him.

His movements were just in time, because the door opened immediately after he got himself situated and the girl looked in once more. At least, he assumed she looked in; he could not see a thing from under the pillow. But he heard her walk into the room and stop at Peter's bedside. Then nothing happened for a minute until he heard Peter groan as he was being awakened against his will.

"It's time to get up Peter," he heard the girl say quietly. "You have to get ready for school." Peter groaned again.

"I changed my mind," he replied groggily. "I don't need to go to school. There's nothing more for me there anyway!" Quietus wanted to laugh at Peter's childish behavior, but then again, Peter was a child and he wasn't going to be growing up anytime soon.

"Peter, I warned you that this was going to happen, but I could hear you up all night. It sounded like you were talking to someone? What were you doing?" Quietus felt Peter stir and was almost suffocated by Peter's arm as it moved to the spot on the pillow where he was hiding.

"I was sleep-talking, I guess," he lied. "I've been told I do that a lot."

. . .

Peter shifted nervously, now fully awake, adrenaline pulsing through him as he got incredibly nervous.

"I was sleep-talking, I guess," he lied. "I've been told I do that a lot." When she seemed to accept the answer, he felt relieved.

He still didn't want to get out of bed, but he didn't want Abby to stay and find Quietus. So, he threw back his covers and stepped out onto the cold floor. This seemed to satisfy her enough to nod her head and begin walking out.

"Be at the table for breakfast in seven minutes," she said as she shut the door behind her.

As soon as he was sure the door was closed and she was gone, he called out softly, "Quietus? Where are you?" He heard coughing and lifted his pillow to find his little fairy curled up in a ball, his wings bent awkwardly where the pillows had crushed him. Peter's eyes went wide and he gently picked up his friend and held him in his hands.

"Are you ok?" he asked softly. "Quietus?" His only response was more coughing and a tiny fist held up with the thumbs up sign.

"Good," Peter exclaimed. He placed him down softly on the bed sheets where he lay down to rest. Then he turned around and got dressed. As he was walking out the door, he heard a weak, "good luck," from Quietus. He turned around and saw that his fairy friend was still nursing his bent wings, trying to get them to go straight again.

"Uh, thanks," he said. "You too. Sorry about that," he added about the wings.

He went to the kitchen and received his breakfast from Bryn. Abby had already eaten and was getting ready in the bathroom.

Just then, he heard honking from outside. Abby and Morgan rushed into the living room, grabbed their bags, and gave their mom a quick kiss before rushing out the door, beckoning for Peter to come with them. Bryn held out his bag, and Peter took it, finishing his breakfast quickly and running out the door after her. Last night Abby and Bryn had explained that he would be taking a 'school bus' to school, and that he had to be ready quickly or it would leave without him. This morning he was tempted to miss it, because he didn't want to go, but then he remembered the boys and knew he had to. He couldn't just leave them.

He chased Abby up to the bus and climbed on as the bus driver gave him a weary look.

"This the new kid?" the bus driver asked. Abby nodded. The driver grunted and shut the doors. Peter just stood there. The driver glared at him again.

"Well, find a seat kid. I don't have all day."

Peter looked around. Nearly every seat was filled with kids. He looked for Abby, or even Morgan, but he didn't see them. So he just stayed where he was. Needless to say, the driver got very angry.

"Sit down!" he shouted and Peter quickly sat in the first seat next to a burly looking teenager. The bus started moving again as the teen turned to glare at him. Peter stared back defiantly. They were caught in a staring contest for awhile until the teen finally looked back out the window and Peter looked straight ahead. They rode like that until they got to the school.

As the bus slowed to a stop in front of the building, all of the kids stood up and crowded in the aisle. Peter couldn't get through. The kids were all pushing and shoving at him. But he wasn't one to just sit back and let them pass. He shoved his way in between two boys, who both cried out indignantly, but otherwise didn't do anything. Peter smirked. Cod fish!

He had a little trouble finding the first room he was supposed to go to. He hadn't actually expected that he'd have to attend classes; he was just here to find the boys, convince them of who they were, and leave. But he eventually asked Abby, and she pointed him in the right direction.

He arrived in the classroom and was surprised to find that he was the only one in it, aside from the teacher, who was sitting at a large desk near the back of the room. The teacher looked up and smiled at him. Peter was surprised to find that his teacher was a man. He thought only girls were teachers.

"Hello," he said. "You must be Peter, our new student?" Peter nodded. The man smiled and gestured to a seat near the back of the room.

"My name is Mr. Blume," he said. "I will be your math teacher." Peter rolled his eyes. He knew all about math from Morgan, who came home every day complaining about it. He used to hear children whine about math when he would come by their window. He never understood what 'math' really was, but he would soon find out.

The entire class soon arrived. Peter looked around, and was distressed when he did not see any of the boys in the classroom. They were the whole reason he was even here.

Mr. Blume got up and began to teach. At least, Peter thought it was teaching, but he barely understood a word of what was being said. It sounded like he was speaking English, but he kept bringing made up words into the lesson. Perhaps that was the way teachers taught in schools. Peter didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't like math.

After awhile of this, Peter began to zone out. He blocked out the teacher, and his eyes started to wander. At the back of the classroom was the teacher's big desk. Papers were piled everywhere, and pushed to the corner was a hefty computer. The desk had a swivel chair. He remembered seeing one like it in Abby's room. It could spin really fast if you tucked your knees in close to your body and used your arms to push against something. It spun you over and over again, and Peter wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that swivel chair right now, spinning as fast as he could, but he forced his imagination to move on.

Along the walls were posters saying things like, "_We love math!" _or,_ "Learning is fun!"_ with pictures of children sitting at a desk like his, writing on a piece of paper and smiling. Whiteboards covered the room and the floor was a speckled blue carpet. Peter nudged it with his foot. For carpet, this was rather hard. There were calendars and filing cabinets and counters and a water fountain in the back of the classroom. But the room was mostly taken up by desks and papers. To put it frankly, this room was rather boring.

And the teacher was boring too. Peter had looked at the clock several times, but no time seemed to be passing. He just wanted to get out of this classroom to go find the lost boys. He couldn't understand any of what the teacher was saying, and he was starting to get a little sleepy. He looked down and saw that someone had carved something in the desk: J+H with a heart around it. He shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what that meant. Giving in to the tiredness, he put his head on his desk and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, a loud bell rang in his ears. He woke up with a jolt. Eyes and ears still hazy, he looked around, wiping the drool from his chin. The students were all getting up and leaving with their bags on their backs. The teacher was sitting in the back of the room at his desk writing on some paper. He probably hadn't even noticed he was asleep. He followed the other student's suit and slung his bag over his back as he hurriedly made his way out of the room and into the crowded hall. Almost immediately he got his foot stepped on by somebody. He whirled around to see who it was, but they were already gone, swept away by the waves of people. And now he was trapped as well, sucked in like a stick in a swiftly moving current. He tried to see over the mass of heads to find the lost boys, but everyone looked the same from down here. He thought he saw Caleb's messy hair from this distance, but then the boy turned the corner and he saw that it wasn't him.

It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going. He looked at his schedule, but couldn't really understand what was on it, and he couldn't see Abby anywhere. The people were beginning to disperse into different rooms and the crowd was thinning. Well at least he could move again.

Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a mousy girl with short blonde hair and blue eyes holding a notebook in one hand. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt even though it was the middle of winter. Everyone else was wearing coats and long pants, she must be freezing. Her brown eyes were fixated on him with such intensity that he began to feel uneasy. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Then she smiled.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Kate. Kate Chandler. You look a little lost. Need some help?"

Peter wanted to say that he wasn't, and that he could find his way just fine, but he swallowed his pride and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I don't know where any of the rooms are." Kate giggled and held out her hand for his schedule. He handed it over.

"Oh," she exclaimed as she looked it over. "A newbie? Well, that's alright. Your class is just down that hall and to the left. Third door on your right." Peter nodded as she handed back the papers.

"Thank you," he said. He started walking away, but Kate grabbed his backpack and leaned close to his ear.

"A bit of advice," she whispered. "Stay out of that teacher's way. He's not someone you want to mess with. Stay on your toes and don't get noticed. It helps us survive around here." And with that, she released his backpack and skipped in the other direction clutching her notepad and humming a little tune softly to herself. Peter watched until she rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

_Well she was odd_ he thought to himself. _Wonder what she meant?_

Suddenly the bell rang. Peter may have been new to this whole school thing, but Abby and Morgan had told him what that meant. He was late. And judging by what this Kate girl had said, this class was not something you wanted to be late for.

He hurried down the hallway and turned left. He counted down the doors, 3…2…1, and was about to fling it open when something fell off of his backpack. Curious, he picked it up and looked it over. It was a yellow note with a paperclip attached to it. Someone had scribbled a message onto it. Peter wasn't terrific at reading, but he had picked a little bit up.

The note said, '_Remember what I said. Watch out and keep on your toes. Be careful Peter.'_

_Sincerely, Kate Chandler_

_Well that was weird_ thought Peter. _I don't even remember telling her my name._ Nevertheless, he still had to get to class. He threw open the door and he could see the teacher at the front of the classroom with his back to the class. Upon hearing the door open he turned around and saw Peter, and Peter saw him. And he didn't like what he saw one bit.

Hook smiled, but from Peter's perspective, it looked more like a snarl. "Well Peter, it seems we are destined to continue meeting like this, just as you are destined to continue to be late for my class. Why don't you take a seat and we can get started."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: No amount of tomato's can cover the amount of shame I feel for how late this is. Almost 7 months! I am SO sorry guys. Needless to say I've been distracted. Just come to expect this, I'm sorry to say. Things happen. And boy have a lot of things happened in my absence, both wonderful and terrible, but I'll spare you the gory details. Let's just say I've got very little to do this summer, so hopefully (and hope is the clear word) I'll get some writing done.**

**I know I don't deserve it, but could you maybe review on this chapter and let me know what you think? And doubletrouble, I hope you liked that little excerpt at the end. That was for you. Needless to say, Kate will be showing up in more chapters. See what happens when you review guys! I am on a chapter writing overload. I am trying to put out as many as possible for all of my fanfics. I took on too much at one time. So all the support I could get to let me know my efforts aren't in vain would be terrific. And there'll be lost boys in the next chapter! I wanted to get this out ASAP, so I couldn't include his whole first day here, so lost boys had to take a backseat in this one. But next chapter I'll get Peter refocused and maybe have some Hook and Peter action! Maybe…**

**Review guys! I love you all!**


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